Hostile Witness
by the lurker
Summary: After witnessing something he wished he hadn't, Matt wrestles with his conscience as a lawman and friend, and Doc's life hangs in the balance.
1. Chapter 1

"Hostile Witness"

"I'm a-tellin' you, Doc, I saw him, and he was at least 50 pounds."

The doctor swiped an irritated hand across the lower half of his face. "Oh you did not. There has never been a trout that big in Cottonwood crick..."

Haggen held his hand up as if taking an oath. "If I'm lyin' I'm dyin'."

Adams opened his mouth, prepared to make a comment, but the soft kick on his chin under the table stopped him. He looked into the bright blue eyes of the owner of the pointy shoe, and the meaning was clear. Adams inhaled a large breath of air and rolled his eyes.

"Fifty pound trout in Cottonwood crick...well that's...it's ridiculous."

Haggen's eyes narrowed in exasperation. "You know the problem with you, you old scudder is that you cain't never take no one's word for nuthin'. I seen it with my own eyeballs. I knowed what I sawed."

"You might 'knowed what you sawed,' but things aren't always as they appear, ya know. The water could have played tricks on ya, the sunlight might have hit just right to make somethin' look bigger than it was; or maybe you just saw somethin' you wanted to believe!"

The old man winked at Kitty, who smiled slightly and shook her head. Dillon silently observed the exchange, an amused grin on his face; it wouldn't be Sunday night dinner at Delmonico's if Festus and Doc weren't arguing about something.

Doc glared at Festus. "Are you sittin' there, tellin' me that you ain't never made a mistake about anything you've ever seen?"

"No, I ain't, you dag-blamed old billy goat. You just ain't happy a-tall unless you're needlin' me about somethin' are ya?"

But Doc Adams was no longer listening. His stare was fixed toward the door of Delmonico's, at the couple standing in it. Kitty glanced at the man who was well-dressed in a suit and hat typical of a gentleman from the eastern states, and somewhere in his mid-70's; and the woman, at least thirty years his junior, was wearing a dress the likes of which Kitty only wished they sold in Dodge. Dillon's brow furrowed slightly.

"Doc? Somethin' wrong?"

The old man said nothing as he watched the couple be escorted to a table a few feet away. Matt gently touched Adams' forearm.

"Doc? You know those folks?"

Kitty exchanged a confused glance with Matt as the doctor's attention stayed transfixed to the strangers at the nearby table. Kitty couldn't remember ever seeing such a look of pure, unadulterated hatred in Doc Adams' eyes, and it sent a shudder through her clear down to her bones. Abruptly Adams stood and stalked angrily over to the man and woman, his voice loud enough to fill the restaurant.

"Dr. Bradley? Aaron Bradley?"

The man looked up at Adams, not a hint of recognition on his face. "Yes?"

"Dr. Aaron Bradley of Easton, Maryland?"

The man frowned slightly, feeling the intensity of Adams' anger. "Yes..."

"You don't remember me, do you?"

The older man shook his head. "No, I'm afraid I don't. Have we met?"

The steel in Doc's voice sent another shiver through Kitty. "We certainly have. Twenty-seven years, three weeks and two days ago. But then, maybe you've killed too many people since then to remember me..."

Bradley stood, preparing to handle the insult. "I beg your pardon."

Adams was literally shaking with anger, and Kitty felt her throat constrict with fear. Matt stared at Doc unbelievingly; in all the years he had known him, he had never known the man to be rude. Festus felt his muscles tense up, ready to spring into whatever action Doc might need from him.

Doc's timbre was positively caustic, "Galen Adams. _Dr._ Galen Adams..."

It took a moment, but then Adams saw the recognition slowly filter onto the man's face.

Bradley almost stuttered, "I...I had no idea you were are doctor..."

"There was little choice. I had to save people from quacks like you." His swirling emotions spiraled out of control, and Adams grabbed Bradley by the lapels, pulling him into his face. "I ought to take you apart one little piece at a time!"

The young woman with Bradley rose. "Take your hands off him!"

Matt stood. "Doc! Let him go!"

But Adams was too far gone to hear the marshall. He shook the man, hard.

Bradley's voice remained even, "You would no sooner cause harm than I--"

"--than you?...you...how can you even count yourself among the profession? You _have _caused harm, and you know it!"

The young woman pulled at Doc's arm. "Let him go!"

Dillon went to Adams, gently gripping his shoulders. "Doc, take it easy. Let go of him..."

But Adams shrugged the marshall off, and the wild look in his pale blue eyes caused Kitty's stomach to turn.

The man reasoned with Doc even as Dillon tried to gently pry Adams away. "You could no more harm me than refuse to help me if I needed you; you're a doctor--"

Adams growled into the man's face, "I wouldn't lift a finger to help you if you were dyin' at my feet."

Dillon forcefully pulled Adams off Bradley, and held onto him from behind. "Doc, you need to just calm down."

Doc's voice was filled with raw emotion, "I'm gonna kill you, Bradley. If it's the last thing I ever do, I'm gonna make you pay--"

Dillon roughly turned Adams around to face him. "Doc, that's enough. What in the hell's the matter with you?" He turned to Haggen. "Festus, get Doc out of here, cool him off."

Without a word, Haggen took a strong hold of Adams' arm, and led him out of Delmonico's. Dillon turned to the older man.

"Dr. Bradley, is it?" The man nodded and Dillon continued, "I'm Marshall Dillon," he indicated Kitty, "and this is Kitty Russell."

The man tipped his hat, "Ma'am." He indicated the younger woman with him as he straightened his tie and coat. "This is my daughter, Ruth."

Dillon tipped his hat and turned his attention back to Bradley. "How do you know Doc Adams?"

"You heard him, Marshall, it was back east."

When the man offered nothing more, Dillon continued, "I've known Doc Adams a long time, and he's a rational man...I'm sorry to put it this way, but there must have been a reason for his behavior."

The old man shook his head sadly. "A piece of my past that I'd rather not remember, Marshall." He took his daughter by the arm. "If you'll excuse us now, I'm afraid I'm very tired."

But Dillon didn't let go. "I'll need to speak with you further, Dr. Bradley."

"Look Marshall Dillon, my daughter and I were just stopping in Dodge to rest, we were only going to stay a few days, but we can move on in the morning. There's no need for your concern."

"But Papa, you need to have a few days rest before we continue on--"

"--No, Ruth. There's no need for us to stay here. We can stop over in the next town."

"Where are you heading, Bradley?"

"California. I'm...retiring there."

Dillon noted the sadness in Ruth Bradley's eyes, but all he said was, "I see."

"Good night, Marshall, and good-bye."

Dillon nodded. "Dr. Bradley, Miss Bradley..."

The marshall and Russell watched the two of them walk out the door, and then Kitty turned to him. "I can only remember seeing Doc this angry one other time, and frankly Matt, this was far worse."

"Yeah, Doc seemed pretty out of control."

She stood, gathering her purse. "Let's go check on him. Maybe we can get him to tell us about it."

Matt nodded. "I hope Festus was able to calm him down some..."


	2. Chapter 2

Festus struggled with the man for control of the pistol, and was surprised at the fight the sixty-year old was able to muster. His voice sounded strained through gritted teeth.

"Now you jes' settle down, Doc, and give me this here gun..."

"Let go of me, Festus, or by thunder, I'll shoot ya!"

Haggen fought to maneuver the old physician in front of him so he could gain the upper hand. "Damnit, Doc, you stop this nonsense right now!"

Adams pulled against Haggen with all his might, but the deputy managed to get behind him, and had a tight grip on his wrist. Finally Doc howled in pain, and dropped the pistol to the floor. Festus held onto him for a moment, in an effort to quiet him.

"Now you jes' relax, Doc. You jes' calm down..."

"Don't you tell me what to do, damn you!" Adams broke away from Haggen. "Just leave me be."

Festus felt the emotion in his eyes, and tried to blink back his concern. "Doc, please tell me whut's the matter. I'll help ya if I can..."

Adams sat heavily in his desk chair, staring at the floor. "Just leave me be, damn you..."

Haggen picked up the weapon, slipping it into his own belt, then he knelt next to the chair. "Doc, maybe I can help you if you tell me whut's botherin' ya so--"

"--GET OUT!"

The angry roar almost sent Festus onto his backside, and stunned, the man straightened up, staring at his old friend.

Doc's voice was softer, and worn out as he reiterated, "Just get out..."

Slowly, like a child who had been discarded, Festus turned and walked toward the door. He opened it, and looked back at the man he considered family, sadly looking to him, waiting for any sign that Doc Adams had so much as a tiny thought regarding him. But Doc continued to stare at the floor as if Haggen had never existed. Hurt to the core, Festus left, softly closing the door behind him. He walked down the staircase outside, his arms hanging limply at his sides. As his feet hit the street below, he could see Dillon and Kitty heading toward him. He brusquely brushed away any remaining moisture from his eyes, although the motion wasn't lost on his friends.

Dillon pat Haggen's shoulder. "Festus? Everything all right?"

Haggen couldn't meet the man's eyes. "Doc's up in his office...but he ain't Doc."

Kitty looked down to catch the soft amber eyes. "Festus, what do you mean?"

Haggen met her gaze. "He ain't hisself a-tall." He handed Dillon the pistol. "Had to wrastle this away from him. He meant to come down here and kill that old doctor with it."

Dillon took the weapon, concern flooding his timbre, "Did he say why?"

Haggen shook his head. "Nope. Said nary a word ta me, 'ceptin' to tell me to leave him be, and ta get out."

Kitty rubbed a hand across his shoulders. "Aw now Festus, you know Doc didn't mean that."

"Yes'n he did, Miss Kitty. It's like we ain't friends no more..."

Matt pitched his voice soft, "Festus, you know as well as I do that Doc can be kinda gruff sometimes. He was just blowin' off steam."

Haggen's tortured amber eyes met Matt's blue ones. "Ya reckon he and me's still friends, Matthew?"

Matt smiled. "I'd put money on it. Now why don't you and Kitty go get a drink at the Longbranch?"

"What about you Matt?"

"I want to keep my eye on him for awhile, Kitty. I'll stop by later."

"I'm really worried, Matt."

His voice was quiet with concern, "So'm I."

Kitty wrapped her arm around Haggen's. "Come on Festus, I think we could both use a drink."


	3. Chapter 3

Matt stood vigil below Doc's office from across the street for several hours. There had been no move on the part of the physician to leave, and when Dillon had no longer been able to stand the cold, he went to the Longbranch for a whiskey. Kitty, Matt and Festus sat in stony silence at their usual table, the fourth chair glaringly vacant. Kitty glanced at her small watch and decided she had waited long enough. She stood and threw a cloak over her shoulders. Matt looked up at her.

"I'm going to go check on him."

Dillon stood. "I'll go with you."

She put a gentle hand on his arm. "I'll stand a better chance if I go alone."

Knowing that Doc found it difficult to deny her anything, Dillon smiled. "You're probably right." She started to leave and Dillon added, "Kitty, if you can, sit with him tonight."

She frowned. "You think he'd make a move against Bradley?"

"No...but if you're there with him, then I know he's all right."

She nodded. "I'll see you two in the morning."

"Night Kitty..."

"Good night, Miss Kitty," Festus added after the fact.

* * *

He turned the large gold band around with his fingers. It had grown dull from age, but not thin from use. He pulled the handkerchief from his back pocket and began to polish it. As it started to shine from the buffing, his eyes flooded: he could restore the symbol but not the one who had inspired it. He wiped his face with the cloth, but the sadness in his heart overwhelmed him. A sound from the staircase made him start, and quickly he put the ring back in its small drawer in the top of his desk, where it had silently laid for almost thirty years.

He recognized the soft knock on the door and closed his eyes: she should have stayed away.

"Doc? I know you're in there..."

He sat unmoving in his chair, and she knocked again.

"Come on, Doc, I'm not leaving, and it's getting really cold out here..."

Adams shook his head; she knew exactly how to play him. Resigned to a conversation he didn't want to have, the old doctor pulled himself up and unlocked the door, not bothering to greet her, nor hold the door open for her. Kitty entered the office to find him standing in the middle of the room with his back to her. She shook her head and closed the door, removing her cloak as she did so. He made not a move to acknowledge her, so she pressed forward.

"It's awfully cold in here...why isn't there any wood in the stove?"

She ignored the fact that he didn't answer and shoved some kindling in the potbellied stove. She rubbed her hands together over the flame before closing the door, then she turned toward him to find him standing as still as a statue in the same spot as before. Kitty walked over to him, and touched his arm.

"Doc, you're as cold as an icicle." She pulled two chairs in front of the stove. "Come on, sit over here with me."

But the old man continued to ignore her. She went to him and simply turned him around, guiding him to the chair nearest the heat. He sat down and she gently rubbed her hands down his arms for a few minutes trying to warm him.

"Honestly...didn't you notice it was getting cold in here?" When he still did not answer her, she sat next to him, leaning in close. "Why don't you tell me about it?"

Trying not to let her affection get to him, his voice was as cold as his room had been before she lit the stove, "It's none of your business."

"It is when it hurts you this much."

He swallowed hard and looked down. "I don't remember sayin' I was hurtin'..."

Seeing that she was getting to him, she took his hand in hers. "You didn't have to." He blinked away the moisture trying to form in his eyes, and Kitty put an arm around him. "Let me help you."

"Ain't nothin' you can do, Kitty."

"I can listen." Doc still remained silent, and Kitty prompted further. "Who is this Dr. Aaron Bradley? What did he do to you?"

Adams pulled away from her and stood, allowing his anger to flood him. "I told you it's none of your business, and I meant it."

This time she couldn't keep the sting of hurt from her tone, "I saw the ring--"

"--You what?"

"I was standing on the staircase, and I saw you put a wedding band in the top drawer. Is it yours?"

And all rationality left him. He stalked to the door, pulling it open, the meaning quite clear, although he bellowed at her anyway.

"Get the hell out of here."

"Doc, please--"

He grabbed her hard by the arm, "--I said get out." Adams roughly pulled her through the door, and his voice was like steel. "You're no longer welcome here, so don't come back."

He slammed the door shut and for a long moment Kitty stood, shell-shocked on the landing. The tears of hurt flooded down her cheeks and she ran as quickly as she could down the stairs and to the Longbranch. She let herself in through the back door, sat down at her desk and cried as she hadn't done since the day her own father had abandoned her.


	4. Chapter 4

The pounding on his door roused him from a troubled sleep at his desk. Doc shook his head to clear it, and whomever it was pounded yet again.

"I'm comin', hold on to your horses..."

He opened the door to find Ruth Bradley standing there, practically in tears.

"Doctor Adams, please, my father's very sick. Can you come?"

Doc swallowed down the bile that quickly filled his throat, and after a long moment's hesitation nodded. "I'll just grab my bag..."

Adams threw on his coat and hat, and picked up his bag, following Ruth Bradley out the door.

* * *

Doc entered number nine at the Dodge House to find Aaron Bradley standing there pointing a gun at him. He turned to Ruth.

"He don't look too sick to me..."

She looked away, unable to hold his gaze. "I'm sorry, doctor, he's my father and no matter what, I love him."

Doc frowned at the comment, wondering exactly what she meant, but Bradley interrupted the train of thought.

The old man waved the gun at Adams, his voice slurring from alcohol. "You just come in here and sit down. We have old times to discuss."

Doc's voice rose in anger, "I hope you're ready to use that gun now that you've got it pointing at me..."

Bradley laughed. "You're a doctor in a one-horse town in Kansas. No one would ever believe anything you say about me. I have standing in the community in the east..."

"Standing in saloons, maybe, but not much else."

Bradley cocked the hammer on the pistol. "How dare you judge me. You have no right--"

"--I have every right." Doc took a few menacing steps toward the man, but stopped when the gun was pointed at his head. "Well if you're gonna pull that trigger, then do it. Otherwise I'm going to rip you apart with my bare hands."

And Bradley fired.

* * *

Howie heard the gunshot and knew it had come from room nine, and he ran. He ran as fast as he could to the Marshall's Office, busting through the door breathless.

"Marshall Dillon! Marshall Dillon! You gotta come quick!"

Matt jolted awake. "What?"

"The Dodge House, Marshall. Doc Adams just went up to Doc Bradley's room, and I heard a gunshot! I wondered what he was doin' goin' up there after what happened at Delmonico's tonight but--"

"--Shut up, Howie." Matt jumped off his bunk, grabbed his pistol out of its holster on the wall, and ran for the Dodge House.

* * *

In his drunkenness, Bradley missed entirely, and Doc lunged for the gun. The two men grappled for it, and Doc strong-armed it away. He pointed it at Bradley's head, and Ruth screamed in horror. Doc's hand began to shake with emotion.

"I ought to just kill you, Bradley, and rid the world of someone who's just takin' up space."

Bradley laughed. "You don't have the nerve to do it."

Doc cocked the hammer back, and Ruth began to cry. "Please Dr. Adams...please don't kill him." Her voice grew soft and fearful, "Please don't take my father away from me."

Doc's eyes filled with tears and he carefully released the hammer, lowering the pistol's barrel to the floor. Without a word he picked up his bag from the floor where he dropped it, turned and walked out of the room.

Adams had just stepped onto the top landing of the stairs when Bradley shoved him from behind, sending him face first into the wall. Doc dropped his bag, and once again, the two men struggled for the gun. Adams was surprised at the old man's strength, but in the end, knew he would overpower him. Ruth followed them onto the landing and watched in terror as the the two men fought. Doc pushed away from the wall, and Bradley tottered on the edge of the main stairs as they pushed and pulled for control of the direction of the gun barrel.

Adams growled as they stood close, "You took everything from me."

"So now you want to take everything from me?"

"You deserve to die!"

They each tried to rip the gun from the other's hand, and suddenly the gun went off. Ruth stared at the two men, and for a long moment, she couldn't tell who had been hit, but then her father crumpled, and tumbled down the main stairs just as Marshall Dillon rushed into the lobby. He looked up as the body came crashing down toward him, and saw Doc Adams standing there, smoke rising from the barrel of the gun in his hand. And Matt Dillon felt sick.


	5. Chapter 5

Festus silently handed Doc a cup of coffee, and then walked back toward the stove area, not wanting to face up to what was transpiring in the room. Matt sat in the chair next to Doc, worry lining his face.

"Why in the world did you go with her?"

"I already told you, Matt, she told me he was sick."

"But you said yourself that you wouldn't lift a finger to help him if he was dyin' at your feet. Why go?"

Adams didn't try to hid the anger in his voice, "I'm a doctor, Matt, it's what I do. I'd think you'd know that by now for corn's sake."

"Calm down, Doc, I'm not accusing you of anything--"

"--Oh you're not? It sure sounds like ya are."

Dillon placed a gentle hand on the doctor's forearm. "I'm just trying to find out what happened, Doc, that's all." The two old friends exchanged a hard glance, and Matt continued, "The whole damned town heard you threaten him at Delmonico's, then in the middle of the night you go to his hotel room, and shots are fired. Just as I'm comin' in the lobby, I see you standing at the top of the stairs with a smoking gun in your hand, and a dead body tumbling at me down the steps. And you refuse to discuss what your grudge is against him in the first place..."

Doc slammed his coffee cup on the table. "If you think I killed him on purpose Matt, then go ahead and arrest me. Otherwise, I'm tired, and I'm going to bed!" Matt had a funny look on his face, and Doc stared at him. "Well, you wanna lock me up? Make up your damned mind."

Matt moved close to Doc and placed a large hand on his shoulder. "Doc, you know I don't think you killed him, but I have to investigate it just like I would if it were anyone else in Dodge, or I'm not fit to wear this badge."

Adams' voice was much softer. "Looks pretty bad, doesn't it?"

Dillon nodded. "Well, it doesn't look any too good I'll tell you." He pat the shoulder under his hand. "But you don't have anything to worry about, as you said, Ruth Bradley witnessed it all, and will be able to back up everything you're saying." He rubbed the old man's shoulder for a moment. "You want one of us to walk home with ya?"

Doc glared at the tall man. "Oh for--I'm not a senile old man. I know where I live."

Adams slammed the door behind him, and Matt had to smile. But it was fleeting as the tension in the jailhouse grew. Finally Haggen spoke.

"Ya ain't gonna arrest him, are ya, Matthew?"

Dillon couldn't keep the irritation from his timbre, "Of course not." He looked away, then back at Haggen. "I'm sorry Festus, I don't mean to take this out on you."

"It's as you say, Matthew, if'n that daughter of Bradley's tells ya the same tale tommorry mornin', Doc's in the clear."

Dillon felt the muscles in his belly tighten up. "Yeah, if she does."

Festus moved closer to the marshall. "You think she won't?"

"I don't know, Festus. I have a bad feeling about this in the pit of my stomach. There's a lot in play that we don't know."

"You mean about that thar history betwixt old Doc and that Dr. Bradley..."

"Yeah."

"Miss Kitty didn't get it out of the old scudder?"

"You know, she didn't come and talk to me after her visit with him. I'll go see her first thing in the morning. She probably has the whole story; Doc's never been very good at keeping things from her."

The quiet settled on the two men once again, and then Haggen's soft voice spoke up, "You reckon he's okay Matthew? Poor old scudder looked a little ragged around the edges..."

Matt took a sip of his coffee. "Yeah, I'm sure he'll be fine..."

But Haggen could hear the uncertainty in the marshall's voice, so it did nothing to allay the deputy's fears.


	6. Chapter 6

Dillon walked into the Longbranch to find Kitty standing at the bar, working on her books, sipping at a cup of coffee.

"How's the coffee this morning?"

She turned and smiled weakly at him. "It's fine, want a cup?"

He answered, "Sure."

He examined her as she poured and handed him a cup, and he knew that she not only hadn't slept, but also that something was heavily weighing on her; and Dillon assumed it was because she had heard about what happened at the Dodge House. He cleared his throat.

"I uhm, suppose you're a little upset about the trouble with Doc last night."

She glared at him. "He told you?"

Dillon frowned. "Well not all of it, but he gave me an account of what happened from the time Ruth Bradley showed up at his office--"

"--What?"

"Ruth Bradley...aren't you talking about what happened at the Dodge House last night?"

"What the hell happened now?" Alarm suddenly filled her. "Is Doc all right?"

"He's fine. But he's in a little bit of hot water."

"How do you mean?"

"He shot Aaron Bradley last night."

Kitty didn't seem that surprised. "Did he kill him?"

"Bradley's dead, yes. Doc says it was an accident."

Kitty looked Matt in the eyes. "You believe him?"

Anger clouded his face. "Well of course I believe him, why wouldn't I?" His frown deepened. "Look, I came over here to ask you how your talk with Doc went last night."

Kitty sighed. "It didn't. He threw me out."

"Threw you out? I don't understand..."

"Neither do I, but he sure as hell doesn't want to be probed about his history with Aaron Bradley." She looked up at the marshall, tears in her eyes. "Matt, he told me that I was no longer welcome to come to his office."

Dillon couldn't believe his own ears. "That doesn't sound like Doc at all."

"No it doesn't. And that's not all." She looked down then back up at him. "Before I went in, I looked through the window..."

"And?"

"Was Doc ever married?"

"Doc, married? No...why?"

"Matt, I swear I saw him holdin' a gold wedding band, and when he realized I was on the staircase, he shoved it in a desk drawer. I asked him about it, and it was then that he told me to get lost."

Matt let out a long sigh of air. "The more I find out, the worse this looks."

"You going to talk to Doc?"

"Yes, right after I have a chat with Ruth Bradley. If she corroborates what Doc told me, then there's no problem."

"But if not?"

"I don't want to think about that right now, Kitty."

* * *

Ruth Bradley cried as she spoke to the marshall. "I told you, Marshall, my father wasn't feeling well, and I fetched Doc Adams."

"Even though you witnessed the altercation between them earlier?"

"You were there, Marshall, it wasn't an altercation. Dr. Adams obviously had some kind of grudge against my father...but it didn't give him the right to kill him!"

Matt backed off slightly. "Calm down, Miss Bradley. I know this is difficult for you, but I need to hear your side of the story."

"My side? I'm telling you the truth, Marshall Dillon. As surely as we are sitting here, my sick father ran out into the hallway of the Dodge House to get away from that maniac with the gun, and then Doc Adams shot him. You saw it yourself."

"I'm interested only in what _you_ saw right now, Miss Bradley."

"Well, I've already told you everything I know."

"And you have no idea what this grudge might have been about? Your father never mentioned anything?"

"Marshall Dillon, before yesterday I had neither heard of nor seen Dr. Galen Adams in my life." She stood, gathering her purse. "And now my father's dead because of him. I hope he hangs, Marshall, and I hope I'm there to see it. I don't understand why he's not in this jail!"

"Leave the law to me, Miss Bradley."

She glared at the tall man. "Good day, Marshall Dillon."

"Miss Bradley..."

Dillon held the door for her, and then dazed slightly, sat down in one of the chairs. Festus tried to clear the emotion from his throat, although he wasn't entirely successful.

"Matthew? What're we gonna do?" The soft amber eyes stared intently into the sad blue ones. "We cain't lock him up, Matthew. We just cain't..."

Matt stood, blowing air out of his mouth. "Festus, there isn't any choice. But I'm gonna wire Judge Brooker and see if we can't let him out based on the fact that he's the only doctor for a hundred miles. We need him..."

Festus couldn't keep the tears from his eyes, and abruptly he stood and walked out the side door. Matt understood he had to let his deputy go; for as much as Haggen liked to argue with Doc, the two men cared deeply for each other. He reached for his hat, and looked down at the little tin badge on his chest. It might be that he'd have to turn it in. If it came down to it, Matt Dillon wasn't sure that he could choose the law over Doc Adams. He wasn't sure at all.


	7. Chapter 7

Doc stared at the faded tintype and felt the sting in his eyes. He hadn't looked at it in years, and he had not anticipated the strength of emotions it could still render within him. When he couldn't bear it any longer, he gently pushed the photo into his vest pocket, and reached into the small drawer, pulling out the ring he had polished the night before. He had been unable for many years to make himself read the inscription he knew was on the inside, and today was no exception.

The heavy footfalls on the staircase alerted him to the inevitable. He slipped the ring in the same vest pocket with the tintype, and looked around his office, ensuring that everything was in its place. The soft knock came a moment later, and standing, Doc straightened his vest and walked to the door, opening it.

"Morning, Matt."

The grim look on the marshall's face left little in doubt.

"Doc..."

The old man smiled gently. "Just lemme get my coat and hat."

Dillon frowned. "You expecting me?"

Adams nodded. "Yep. Something Ruth Bradley said last night...and I didn't figure it out until this morning, but by then I knew she would tell a different version of what happened."

"But why?"

Adams shrugged. "What does it matter? The outcome's the same, isn't it?"

Dillon stood in the doctor's way. "Just hold on a minute, Doc. I sent a telegraph to Judge Brooker, and I asked him if you could just remain up here until the trial." Matt looked away. "I just don't see any reason to lock you up, Doc. It's not as if you'd run."

"No. No, Matt, I ain't gonna run. But you have to consider some other things."

"Like what?"

"Like that badge, and the responsibility that comes with it." Dillon glared at the doctor, but Adams continued, "Just what are people going to say if you don't lock me up and I'm charged with murder?"

"I don't care what people say--"

"--Well you'd better. They're going to say that you're giving special treatment to your friends, and as a U.S. Marshall, you just can't have that kind of talk, Matt. You can't."

Dillon could barely look Adams in the eyes. "What I can't do is put you behind bars, Doc. I just can't do that."

"Well then I'll just do it for ya. Come on..."

Doc put his hat and coat on, and together the two men walked to the jailhouse, passing many who stood teary-eyed along the boardwalk, knowing what was transpiring. They entered the office, but there was no sign of Festus anywhere. Matt hung his hat on its customary peg, but couldn't bring himself to step any further into the room. Doc shook his head and walked back into the room where the cells were and waited. A few long minutes later, Dillon appeared with the keys. Swallowing hard, Matt unlocked a cell, and held it open for Doc, although the marshall couldn't look at Adams' face. Doc walked into the cell and then turned, waiting for Matt to close it, only to find out that the marshall had already left the room, and the door wide open. Slowly Doc closed the cell door, hearing the lock click into place.

And then he felt his stomach jump slightly, the reality of the position he was in truly hitting him.

He swallowed hard and called out to Dillon, "Matt?"

Dillon stuck his head in the door. "Yeah?"

"Come on back here a moment, will ya?" Dillon appeared, but he looked like he was going to be sick. Doc kept his voice conversational, "Festus make any coffee this morning?"

Matt shook his head. "'Fraid not, Doc. He, uh, left kinda early."

"Well where'd he go?"

"I don't know."

"Oh."

Matt pat one of the strong hands that gripped the bars between them. "Don't worry, Doc. This won't be for long. I'll get to the bottom of it." He paused then added, "It would help me to know what it was between the two of you."

The dark countenance quickly covered Doc's face. "You don't need to know nothin' of the kind. I told you what was pertinent, the facts of last night. That's all you need."

"Doc..."

"No sir. Now you can believe me or not, Matt, but Ruth Bradley's lyin' about what happened last night."

"Doc...this could get a little sticky."

"You mean my word against hers?"

Matt didn't know how to break it to the old man, so he just said it. "Doc, this could be a hangin' charge. And it's not just your word and hers. There's all the people who witnessed what you said in Delmonico's, and then there's what I saw when I arrived at the Dodge House."

"You tellin' me you're gonna testify against me?"

"I'm going to have to testify to what I saw and heard, yes."

Adams felt like he had been kicked in the stomach by his best friend, and his legs suddenly felt weak. He backed up to the cot and sat down heavily.

"Doc, you okay?"

"I'll be fine."

"Let me know if you need anything."

"Sounds like I need a lawyer."

"You want me to get one?"

"I think you'd better, Marshall."

Dillon visibly flinched upon hearing Doc call him 'marshall,' but let it go. Doc couldn't be feeling any other way than abandoned at that moment, and Matt felt more than sick over it.

* * *

Judge Brooker sat in his chambers listening intently to what was being said. Doc stood between Dillon and his own lawyer, Tom McClennan, and facing them were Ruth Bradley and the Ford County District Attorney, Jeffrey Beeman.

"I believe that Doc Adams' reputation speaks for itself, Judge," McClennan said, "there is no reason to keep a man of his standing locked up until trial."

The judge pursed his lips. "Except Mr. McClennan, that this is not a robbery charge or disorderly conduct. It is preconceived murder."

"But Judge," Matt added, "you've known Doc Adams for years, do you actually believe him to be some kind of flight risk?"

Brooker looked down, disgusted. "Of course not. But the law is the law, Matt, and you know it. A murder charge is just that, and I can't make an exception, not even for Doc Adams." He turned to Jeffrey Beeman. "You have your witnesses, Mr. Beeman?"

"Yes Judge. I intend to call Ruth Bradley as an eyewitness, and then of course a few patrons who were at Delmonico's and witnessed Doc Adams threaten the deceased, and I intend to call Marshall Dillon as a hostile witness."

Brooker looked up at the man. "Hostile?"

"It's well known, Judge Brooker, that the Marshall is a very close personal friend of the accused. So yes, I would call that a hostile witness."

Matt glared at the man. "Are you sayin' you think I'll lie?"

"I'm saying you're a close, personal friend of the accused, and I intend to call you as hostile."

Adams spoke up for the first time, "Then why call him at all?"

"Because he is a key witness to the end of the murder."

McClennan interjected, "Alleged murder, Mr. Beeman. My client is innocent until proven guilty. Or have you forgotten?"

"I haven't forgotten a thing, Mr. McClennan, just make sure none in your party gets lost going up to Hays."

"Hays?" Dillon asked.

Brooker looked down, then finally back up at Dillon. "Yes, Matt, the district attorney felt that it would be a more fair trial if it took place in Hays. He feels that he will not be able to find 12 impartial men in Dodge."

"But the alleged crime happened here in Dodge," McClennan said, "the trial should be here."

The judge shook his head, "Unless the DA has an objection. And he does. If there are no further objections, questions or statements, I'd like to adjourn for now."

"I have one thing, your honor," Adams said.

"Go ahead, doctor."

"I would like to see Marshall Dillon excused from this trial, your honor. It's not only a huge conflict of interest for him, but I don't see how his testimony can shed any light on the facts that either Miss Bradley or myself cannot. Furthermore, it is my learnéd opinion that the burden and strain on him could possibly prove detrimental to both his health and his ability to continue as the Marshall of Dodge City."

"Your honor, I object to this entirely--"

"--Just a moment, Mr. Beeman, you'll have your say." Brooker looked at Adams, "And you're asking me to believe that this has nothing to do with the fact that his testimony will damage your position?"

"Your honor, if you want me to plead guilty here and now to save him from this, then so help me, I'll do it."

"Doc--"

"--Hush, Matt." He looked Brooker in the eye. "It's my understanding that the outcome of this trial could mean that I hang--"

"--You deserve it for killing my father!"

Brooker reprimanded her, "Miss Bradley, you will remain still until recognized by the court to speak."

"That's a little formal for an inquest, isn't it Judge?"

"That goes for you as well, Mr. Beeman, I won't tell you again." He looked at Adams. "Dr. Adams, are you saying that you are guilty as charged?"

"No your honor, I am not. But I would rather hang myself than see Matt put into a position where he has to live the rest of his life thinking that he had some part in it."

"I'm sorry, doctor, but the prosecution has a right to call a hostile witness, and I must allow it."

"But judge--"

"--Enough, Dr. Adams." He looked at Dillon. "You are to lock him up in the Dodge City jail until he is transferred to Hays for trial, two days from today."

"Two days?"

"Yes Mr. McClennan, is that a problem?"

"No sir, just a little surprising."

"I see no reason in dragging this out any longer than necessary."

* * *

Matt handed Adams a cup of coffee through the bars. "Not as strong as it usually is, but it'll probably do..."

"Still no sign of Festus?"

Matt looked sadly at Adams. "'Fraid not, Doc."

He took a sip of his coffee and winked at Matt. "A little weak, but it'll do."

Dillon felt his stomach drop. "Doc, I wish there was somethin'--"

"--Well there ain't, and I don't want you thinkin' about it anymore. You're gonna make yourself sick." Adams sounded slightly vulnerable. "Kitty ain't been around much, has she?"

"Uhm, no, Doc, no she hasn't."

"Oh. I just wondered you know."

"Yeah, I know." He looked at the old man. "I'll be back in a little while. Do you need anything?"

"No, no, I'm fine Matt."

Dillon walked out, closing the door behind him, knowing damned well that Doc Adams was far from all right.


	8. Chapter 8

Kitty found him sitting at a table in the back of the saloon, an almost empty bottle of whiskey next to him. "What're you doing back here, cowboy?"

Dillon shrugged. "Trying to forget what a disloyal friend I am."

"Oh Matt, don't do this to yourself." She sat down. "This isn't your fault."

"Maybe not, but I haven't helped him, Kitty. I haven't helped him at all." He looked into her eyes so intently it almost hurt. "I'll have to testify to what I saw. I'll have to testify, and he'll be convicted, and they'll hang him."

She took his hand. "You don't know that."

He jerked his hand away from her. "Yes, I do. I know the evidence against him. He has only his version of the story. Beeman's gonna bury him, and I'm going to help."

"Doc knows this isn't your fault."

Dillon laughed sarcastically, "Yeah, that'll make both of us feel a lot better when they're placing the noose around his neck." His eyes narrowed in anger. "He's been asking about you, you know; I'm sure he's wondering why you haven't bothered to come and see him. Are you even going to come to the trial?"

Kitty slapped him hard across the face. "Just stop it, Matt. You're being very unfair. You have no idea how much he hurt me, and I have every right to be angry with him."

Dillon looked down. "Yes, Kitty, you _had_ a right to be angry; but that was before he was sittin' in a jail cell waitin' for a murder trial. He needs you now, and you haven't been around; Festus has been missing since I arrested Doc, and he knows that I'm going to have to testify against him. Do you have any idea how alone he must feel right now? The three people who should be closest to him have deserted him during the worst moment of his life."

Her voice was soft, "I haven't deserted him."

Dillon glared at her. "I'm not the one who needs to hear that right now."

And Kitty suddenly felt very small.

* * *

He looked up when he heard the door and was surprised to see her standing there. He nodded at her. 

"Miss Bradley...what brings you by?"

"Who was she to you?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Margaret, I think he said her name was...who was she?"

After so many years, it still felt like a knife in his heart when he heard the name. He swallowed hard and turned his back to her. "I don't know what you're talking about, Miss Bradley."

"I want to know."

He spun around, anger in his pale blue eyes. "And I'd like to know why you're lyin' about what happened at the Dodge House. But we don't always get what we want, do we?" She backed slightly away from the bars, as if he would come through them to get at her, and he relaxed his posture slightly. "I'm sorry, Miss Bradley, I didn't mean to frighten you."

She swallowed and tried again. "Who was Margaret?"

He looked down at the floor, noting how the dust had settled there; another sign that Festus hadn't been around. And then he looked at her, his voice a soft caress.

"She was Maggie to me..."

He swallowed hard, feeling his eyes fill: he hadn't said her name aloud in 27 years. Doc sat down on the cot, no longer able to stand.

"Tell me about her."

His voice held hurt, and years of pain, "I can't..." He looked up at her then, and she noted that his eyes were filled with unshed tears. "Why are you here?"

"He...my father...he mentioned her to me the night he died. I wanted to know who she was."

"Well, I'm afraid I don't much feel like tellin' ya, Miss Bradley."

The woman nodded; she could hardly blame him for that. "Good day, Dr. Adams."

"For you, maybe." He stared hard into her eyes. "For me it's possibly one of my last."

Ruth Bradley swallowed hard and quickly left the jailhouse, no longer sure that she was doing what she must to protect her father's memory. If Adams were reticent to discuss any of it with her, she couldn't picture him talking to anyone else about it. He had yet to ever mention it, and she was beginning to believe that he wouldn't - not even to save his own life.

In his final drunken stupor, her father had said that Galen Adams was of a special breed; she was beginning to think of such an assessment as a gross understatement.


	9. Chapter 9

He thought he heard voices out in the front office; one of them sounded like Matt, but it couldn't be, because the man was drunk. He heard a few things fall to the floor, and then only silence. A moment later, the door opened, and she stood there, as beautiful to him as she ever was. He gripped the cell bars tightly in his large hands, his emotions hitting him harder than he would have expected.

His voice was bare and vulnerable when he uttered the one word. "Kitty..."

She managed a slight smile for him. "Hello Doc."

He unsuccessfully tried to keep the emotion from his voice, "It sure is nice to see you."

She studied her shoes for a moment, then made herself look him in the eye. "I should have come sooner, Doc."

He smiled at her. "You've been busy..." He couldn't keep the quiver from his voice, "But I'm awfully glad you're here."

She moved closer to the cell, standing about a foot away. "I wasn't busy. I was angry."

He nodded. "I know." He paused for a moment, then continued, "I didn't mean any of it, Kitty. Can you forgive an old fool?"

"You're not old, and you're most certainly not a fool. What you are is too obstinate for your own good." She moved yet closer, almost touching his hands on the bars. "Didn't I see Ruth Bradley leaving just now? What was she doing here?"

He backed away from the bars slightly. "Same thing you are."

"She have any luck?"

"Nope."

"I don't understand you, Doc. Do you realize the trouble you're in?"

His pale blue eyes were steady and sure. "I think I've got a pretty good idea, yes."

"But you'd die rather than tell about Aaron Bradley?"

"Nope, but he's dead now, and there ain't nothin' to be gained by tellin' tales..."

"The truth is always worth tellin' about." Kitty pulled a piece of paper from her purse. "I took the liberty of contacting the court in Easton." Doc's piercing gaze hit her, and she began reading from the telegram, "Margaret McGee Adams, died 18th December, 1867 during childbirth--"

"--Don't...you have no right--"

"--Male child, Joseph Hugh Adams, died at birth by umbilical suffocation--"

"--Kitty, please don't--"

"--Eight year old, Shirley Jeanette Adams, died 25th December 1867, suicide. Dr. Aaron Bradley tried for negligent incompetence from intoxication, 16th January, 1868, acquitted by jury."

Doc backed himself into the corner of the cell and slid down the wall to the floor, tears flowing freely down his face. The pity in her beautiful blue eyes made it hurt that much more, and brought it crashing through him as though it had just happened. With her own tears running down her cheeks, Kitty went into the office and took the keys off the peg on the wall. She opened the cell, and knelt next to him, taking him in her arms.

His voice was a soft cry, "Why? Why couldn't you just let this go?"

She took his face between her hands. "Because I couldn't let you go." Kitty pulled his head into her shoulder, and held him close. "You should have told me. Or Matt. My God when I think of all the years that you've shouldered this alone," her voice was close to breaking, "How you must have hurt..."

Kitty cried with Doc for a long while, and then gently brushed his hair back with her hand, wiped his tears and helped him off the floor, sitting him down on the cot.

"You look exhausted, Doc. Just lie down now, and get some rest."

She settled him onto the bunk, and picked up the blanket, intending to cover him with it. She looked down and saw the edge of a tintype peeking out from his vest pocket. She reached for it, and his hand grabbed hers, stopping her. Their eyes locked, holding each other for a long while, then finally, slowly, he removed his hand, and she carefully extracted the photo from his pocket. It was a family picture. Her eyes filled with tears as she sat down on the edge of the cot. Doc put a comforting hand on her knee, and she rested her own on top of it.

"Doc...she was lovely."

His voice was a bare whisper. "Yes she was."

"What color was her hair?"

He smiled then, gently reaching up to stroke hers. "A very vibrant redhead, my Maggie, with bright blue eyes, and a quick wit."

On some level, Kitty Russell was not the least bit surprised to discover the resemblance, and at the same time, it cut deeply to know that he thought of someone else whenever he looked at her.

"How old was she when..."

His voice remained calm, soft, "When she died?" Kitty nodded, so he continued, "She was 27."

"How long were you married?"

"Ten years."

"Why didn't you ever tell me you had a wife and daughter?"

He shrugged, his eyes filling once more. "Hurt too much, honey."

She pat his side gently, and felt the hard metal ring in his pocket. Without a word, he pulled it out and handed it to her. She read the inscription silently, not wanting to cause him any more heartache. Kitty turned the gold band in her hand and marveled at the large size. Sensing that some part of her couldn't imagine it being his, he held out his left hand, and gently Kitty slid the ring on his fourth finger. She admired it for a moment.

"It suits you."

"It did at one time."

He silently pulled it off, and slid it back into his pocket.

"Doc, why didn't you ever remarry?"

"Why are you askin' so many difficult questions of a condemned murderer?"

"That's not funny, Doc."

"I suppose not...but the tellin' of this old truth changes nothing about the present. Ruth Bradley ain't gonna change her story."

She brushed her fingers softly through his hair. "Don't underestimate the power and strength of women." Kitty bent down and kissed him softly on the lips, then covered him with the blanket. "Go to sleep. I'll be back at suppertime."

"Kitty..."

He had thanked God every day for sending him Kitty Russell; for giving back to him one small part of what had been taken. But how could he ever tell her that she had become the daughter he had lost, or that he loved her more every day?

"What is it, Doc?"

He simply couldn't put it into words; no man could.

He smiled weakly at her. "You...you just be careful out there."

She looked at him curiously, but let it go. "Don't you worry about a thing."


	10. Chapter 10

He felt the hand shaking his shoulder, but Matt was terribly groggy; then he remembered the bottle of whiskey. He forced his eyelids to open, and stared at the scruffy face of Festus.

"It's about time, Matthew. I wuz beginnin' ta wonder aboutcha..."

Dillon sat up in his bunk, staring at his deputy through barely open eyes. "_You_ were wondering about _me_? Where have you been?"

Haggen took a few steps away, turning his back to the marshall. "My head's been all swobbledy'd-upped, Matthew. I jes' don't know whut ta thank..."

Dillon stood up and pat Haggen's shoulder. "Doc'll be mighty glad to see you."

Festus stared at the floor. "I feel plum awful about leavin', Matthew. Poor ol' scudder's been locked up...n'...how could this be, Matthew? Ever'body knows Doc'd never hurt nobody. Cain't believe ol' Judge Brooker locked him up like this."

Matt stretched his back before buckling up his gunbelt. "You gonna ride up to Hays with me tomorrow?"

Haggen turned to stare at the marshall. "Hays?"

Dillon pursed his lips before he spoke. "I have to take Doc up there tomorrow morning."

Haggen's brow furrowed deeply. "But Matthew, we cain't take him there. Whut if... wull whut if'n them folks don't see the truth that's a settin' right thar in front of thar faces?"

Matt took a large breath of air. "Let's cross that bridge when we get there, Festus." He pat the man's shoulder. "Do you wanna go get his supper from Delmonico's?"

"Sure will, Matthew, I'll git his vittles and be back directly."

Dillon nodded, "All right then." When the deputy hit the door, the marshal added, "Festus, get him the roast beef...it's his favorite."

Sadness crept into the deputy's eyes. "You don't thank he's gonna be a-comin' back..."

Dillon snapped harshly at his deputy, "I didn't say that, Festus." The tension between them was stretched tightly, and Matt let out a sigh of air. "I'm sorry, Festus... I just want Doc to have somethin' I know he likes."

Haggen's voice was soft, "I reckon we're all a little skitterdy, Matthew." Festus stared into Dillon's eyes, building up courage to say what hadn't been said between them. "The evidenc'd ag'inst him's pretty bad, ain't it?"

"It's not good, Festus, no."

He swallowed hard. "Matthew, if'n this trial don't go his way--"

"--Festus, don't talk like that."

"Matthew, I jes' wantcha ta know that if'n it don't go Doc's way, I'll have ta take off this here badge."

The meaning wasn't lost on Matt, and he held Haggen's eyes with his own. "We both might, Festus."

Haggen nodded, the unspoken certainty of what the two men would do in the face of the unthinkable, assured. Festus silently walked out of the jailhouse, closing the door behind him.

* * *

She opened the door to number nine of the Dodge House, and was surprised to find the pretty redhead she had seen at Delmonico's a few nights prior, standing on the other side.

Her voice was cool, "Can I help you?"

"Miss Bradley, my name is Kitty Russell, I own the Longbranch across the street."

"You were with Doctor Adams that night at Delmonico's."

Kitty nodded. "Yes, I was. May I come in a moment?"

"What do you want?"

"I just want to speak with you for a few minutes."

"What about?"

"About your father, and Doc Adams."

"I don't mean to be rude, Miss Russell, but I don't see how this is any of your concern."

"Well Miss Bradley, Doc Adams is my concern, and I'd like a chance to speak with you; it'll only take but a minute or so."

"Very well."

The young woman held the door open, and Kitty Russell walked in. After closing the door, Ruth Bradley stood with her back to it, her arms crossed in front of her chest. Realizing the woman wasn't going to offer so much as a chair, Kitty squared off, facing her.

"I'll come right to the point, Miss Bradley. I've known Doc Adams most of my life, and if there's one thing I know, he isn't some kind of cold-blooded killer." Kitty's voice took on a hard edge, "Even if he had a good reason."

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

Kitty's eyes narrowed. "Are you sayin' you have no idea? You must have some reason why you haven't told the truth about what happened the night your father died."

"How dare you walk in here and accuse me of being a liar."

"Miss Bradley, I've known all kinds of people over the years, and I know lyin' when I hear it. What I don't understand is why..."

"Did you have a close relationship with your father, Miss Russell?"

Kitty frowned slightly, thinking of her real father, and of how she could never trust him. "No, Miss Bradley, no I didn't."

"Then you can't possibly understand what it's like to watch the person who's loved you and protected you unconditionally, be shot to death in front of your eyes." She fought her own tears, "You can't know the bond of a father's love--"

"--that's where you're wrong, Miss Bradley. Doc's been more of a father to me than any blood kin could ever hope to be, and I'd do anything to save him--" Kitty choked on her own emotion, and had to pause for a moment to regain her control. "I don't know why you're doing this, but I do know what happened 27 years ago, and if you think for a moment that I will stay silent at Doc's trial, you have another thing comin'."

Kitty pushed past the woman, but Bradley grabbed Russell by the arm. "Tell me what was between them."

Kitty stared hard into the younger woman's eyes: whatever her reasons for lying about the circumstances around her father's death, it had nothing to do with the past; Russell could see that much in the confounded ocean of brown. And an angle Kitty hadn't thought open to her, showed itself.

"You'd better sit down, Miss Bradley, and if you have a bottle of somethin' tucked away, pull out a couple of glasses. It'll make this a little easier to swallow..."


	11. Chapter 11

Doc sat at the table in the office of the jailhouse, flanked by Festus, Kitty and Matt. It would have almost seemed normal in a different setting; however, the silence at the small table spoke volumes. The old doctor continued to push his food around the plate. 

Dillon's voice was soft, gentle, "Food not good tonight, Doc?"

Adams looked into the face of the man he knew so well. "Food's just fine. I'm afraid I'm not too hungry is all, Matt."

Kitty tried to lighten the air slightly. "I hear that Judge Dalton's a fair man, takes everything into consideration."

Doc looked at her darkly. "If by 'everything' you mean my past, Kitty, you can just forget it."

Dillon and Festus exchanged a look, not quite understanding the gist of the conversation. Kitty's eyes flared in anger.

"Now Doc, there's no sense in--"

Adams stood up abruptly, shoving his chair loudly back behind him. "--This is not up for discussion, Kitty. And that's the last we'll speak of it."

"But--"

"--No." He turned to a slightly stunned marshall, "Matt, I wanna see you a minute, please."

The three of them watched the doctor walk into the back part of the jail, where the cells were. Matt stood, and sighed.

"Listen, why don't you two go get a drink at the Longbranch, and I'll meet you over there in a few minutes."

Festus balked, "I ain't leavin' him like this, Matthew, no sir, he's in such a skitterdy state."

Dillon squeezed the man's shoulder. "I need a few minutes with him, Festus."

And still Haggen didn't budge. Kitty stood and brushed a hand over the back of the deputy's head.

"Come on, partner, I'll buy you a beer."

"But Miss Kitty--"

She pulled him up by the arm. "--Come on Festus, Matt's got Doc, don't you worry."

Dillon watched the two of them leave, and then he turned toward the door leading to the cells. He opened it to find Adams pacing in one of them, the door closed, and Matt felt his stomach turn.

"Doc, is there somethin' you haven't told me about this case?"

"Don't you start..."

"Doc, if it's somethin' that could help--"

Adams gripped the bars tightly. "--Matt, let it go. Please." Dillon looked hard into the man's eyes. "_Please_..."

Dillon felt hot anger at his friend's secretive demeanor, but for the moment, let it drop. "What did you wanna talk about?"

"I want to leave for Hays tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Yes, in the wee hours."

"But Doc--"

"--Matt, I've thought on this a lot. I don't want any good-byes, or fare-the-wells." He tried to swallow down the lump in his throat, but his voice betrayed him. "I don't wanna have to shake Festus' hand, or look into Kitty's eyes with the whole damned town watchin'. I'd like to go quietly, Matt."

"Doc, they're both plannin' on coming up to the trial...so are a lot of other folks." The old man glared hard into the marshall. "There are a lot of people who think an awful lot of you, Doc. There's gonna be no stoppin' 'em."

"Ruth Bradley and the other witnesses already leave for Hays?"

"Yep. They took the evening stage out."

"And if we get there first thing in the morning, by the time folks here in Dodge realize we're gone and get up there, it'll be over." Dillon looked intently into Adams' eyes, and the old man continued, "You know it ain't gonna take that long to convict me."

"Doc! Don't say that."

"Matt, we both know that the evidence against me is overwhelming. There's only my word against Ruth Bradley's, the witnesses from Delmonico's who heard me threaten to kill him, and your testimony to what you saw that night. You and I can keep on lyin' to each other about it, but Matt we both know how it's gonna go."

Dillon's head hung limply down against his chest, his eyes slammed tightly shut. Doc waited several minutes, but the lawman neither moved nor spoke. Finally Adams reached a hand through the bars, and gently touched Matt's arm; when the marshall looked at him, Doc pitched his voice soft and low.

"Please do this one thing for me, Matt. It's all I ask."

The pain in the electric blue eyes was evident. "And what about Kitty and Festus? Do you know how much this will hurt them?"

The piercing gaze of the pale blue was almost too much. "And you think watchin' me hang will hurt them less?"

Dillon's jaw tensed with emotion, and when he spoke, the words were ground out. "We'll leave at three a.m."

Before Doc could say anything more, Dillon stalked out, closing the door behind him.

* * *

Festus prattled on, but Kitty had long since ceased to listen. She was concentrating on Matt, who was strangely quiet. It wasn't that she expected him to be in any sense lively, but there was something else. He was holding back.

"...and I jes' cain't figer how in tarnation no shemale in her right mind would wanna hurt ol' Doc nohow...not even if'n the ol' scudder said some thangs he ortn't of, I still cain't put my fingers on it, cuz' it jes' don't make no kinda sense, and I surely know that ol' Doc didn't kill nobody--"

"--Festus!" Kitty put her hand on his arm, and his rambling came to an abrupt halt. She smiled awkwardly, patting him. "I'm sorry, partner, I know you're upset, but--"

"--But I ain't shet my trap since'n we set down."

He looked down, embarrassed, and Kitty rubbed a hand over his shoulders. "Drink your whiskey, Festus, it'll help calm you down." She looked over at Dillon, who was taking a long sip from his glass. "What about you, cowboy? How're you holdin' up?"

He nodded, but he didn't meet her eyes. "Fine, Kitty. Just fine."

"Doesn't seem like it."

He looked into his glass. "What was that business between you and Doc back at the office?"

"Didja ask him about him?"

"He told me to mind my own business."

"I'm sorry Matt, but he's made his wishes pretty clear..."

He leaned in. "But if it could help him..."

"I doubt that it would." She ended the conversation by standing.

"Where are you going?"

"Gonna go see Doc for a minute."

Dillon answered quickly, his voice slightly gruff, "No."

She frowned, staring at him. "No?"

He tried to backpeddle from his abrupt answer. "I'm sorry...I just meant that he's trying to sleep. He's awfully exhausted, Kitty." He downed the rest of his whiskey. "You can see him in the morning."

She sat back down, not sure what to make of his behavior. "All right. Want another drink?"

The marshall shook his head as he stood up. "No thanks. I'm gonna call it a night."

Dillon reached over and pat his deputy on the shoulder. "I'd appreciate it if you'd spend the night up at Doc's tonight, Festus."

Haggen stared up at the big man. "'Spectin' trouble is ya, Matthew?"

"Could be, Festus. Everybody in town's upset over this thing, no tellin' how some of 'em might react. I'd feel better if I knew his place was secure."

"I'll do her, Matthew."

The tall man started to leave, then stepped back, bent down, and lightly kissed Kitty on the cheek. Slightly surprised at the overt display, she looked at him, hard.

She pat his cheek, which was still inches from her face. "You okay, cowboy?"

"No. But then I don't think any of us are."

With that, he turned and walked out of the Longbranch, leaving only the swinging batwing doors in his wake.


	12. Chapter 12

Adams shivered in his coat. The night was clear and cold, suspending the moon high above all things worldly, casting eerie silver shadows across the prairie. He took in a long breath of air looking skyward into the imaginable, and he instinctively knew that despite the lack of clouds, snow was on its way. He smiled slightly; he always loved the first snowfall of the season. It brought with it a slowing down of life in Kansas. It was a time for quiet reflection and family, allowing them to love each other just a little bit more with each passing day until Christmas. His gloved hands tightened on the reins as it hit him that he wouldn't be around to raise a toast at Kitty's annual party. His eyes misted over slightly, stung with the emotion of loss.

And he could suddenly taste the fear. But Doc Adams wasn't afraid to die; yet it was the worst fear he'd ever known. Instead of dying quietly in his bed, an old country doctor, he would die on a public platform, swinging from a rope. It was a shame that would cause heartache and grief to the three people he loved the most in the world: and it was _that_ which he could not stand. He hadn't realized that his horse had stopped, the two of them frozen like statues, casting their own shadows across the vista. He hadn't heard Matt call to him from ahead, nor the sound of Buck's hooves as Dillon rode back toward him. It wasn't until Matt touched his shoulder softly that Doc returned from a place of spiritual destitution that no man should ever visit.

Matt's voice was full of concern, "Doc? What's wrong?"

For a long time, Doc didn't answer, then finally, Adams speared Dillon with his pale, wet eyes. "I'll miss this time of year. The snow, the crispness of the air, and the warmth it brings with a wealth of friends." Doc looked down at his own gloved hands gripping the saddle horn, and his voice was colored in sorrow. "I'm gonna miss Dodge, Matt. I'm gonna miss it a lot..."

Doc kicked his horse and started moving once again toward the last place he would ever see. And he desperately wanted it to be home.


	13. Chapter 13

There was a chill in the early morning air that told of winters past, and Festus couldn't keep the smile from his face as he piled more wood into the stove. Doc's office was about as cold as Haggen ever recalled it being, and he couldn't imagine venturing outside without at least having himself a cup or two of coffee. But as he shoved the last piece of wood in the stove, he remembered the reason he was in the office, and the fleeting smile was gone. He pulled his boots on, and then looked out the window. The snowflakes were coming down at a quick pace, and the grin once again returned to his lips: with snow like this, any trips to Hays would have to be postponed, which meant Doc's trial would be delayed. Anything that kept Doc in Dodge, giving Matthew more time to get to the bottom of what happened with Aaron Bradley was a good thing in Festus Haggen's book.

He pulled his shirt and vest on, and made some coffee. It was barely first light when he drank his first cup, and the frantic knocking on the door jarred him, spilling some of it on his pants.

"Oh fiddle n' tarnation..."

He opened the door, prepared to yell at whomever was there, but stopped dead when he saw the panic in the soft blue eyes. He pulled her out of the cold snow, and into the warmth of the room.

"Miss Kitty, whut in the--"

"--Oh Festus, they're gone."

"Whut...who's gone?"

"Matt and Doc."

"Cain't be. They wusn't leavin' 'till later today, and with this here snow a blowin' all over the prairie, ain't nobody goin' no place."

She grabbed his vest. "Festus, I'm tellin' you, they're gone. I went over to Matt's office to make coffee for the two of them, and neither one of them is there."

"Wull maybe they're someplac't else."

She looked at him strangely. "No kidding..."

"Whut I mean is that mebbe them two went ta Delmonico's fer breakfast."

"Matt wouldn't have taken Doc over there under the circumstances, and you know it."

Festus grabbed his coat and hat. "Come on, Miss Kitty, let's go over ta the office and see if'n there's a clue ta whar they went."

* * *

"Ain'tcha ya gonna read it, Miss Kitty?"

She sat on the bunk that had been Doc's, clutching the folded piece of paper with her name on it in her hand. She shook her head, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall. Festus sat down next to her.

"I knowed it's hard, Miss Kitty, but Doc might've said whut he and Matthew were a fixin' ta do."

Russell looked at him, her voice quiet. "Truth is, I'm terrified to read it, Festus."

"Doc wouldn'ta said nuthin' bad to ya, and that thar's the onliest truth you need to know."

She grabbed his hand and held it for a moment. "Can you give me a minute, Festus?"

The deputy didn't seem to get her meaning, because he didn't budge off the cot. She looked at him.

"Festus...I need a minute _alone_."

"Yessum." He stood and headed toward the door leading to the office. "If'n you need anything a-tall, you just let me know."

"Thanks."

Haggen gently closed the connecting door, and Kitty sat still, her mouth pulled into a tight line of fear. Finally, she opened the piece of paper that bore her name written in Doc's hand, and began to read.

_My Dearest Kitty,_

_I wish there was a way for you to know exactly what is in my heart, for I am_

_certain that it would make all of this a little easier for you. I have asked Matt_

_to take me to Hays early because I am far too much a coward to face saying_

_good-bye. It is my hope that someday you will find it in your heart to forgive_

_me, and that you will understand why I do not want you at the trial, nor what_

_will follow. You will always be a part of me, and I thank God for that. If my _

_daughter had lived, I would have wanted her to be just like you, and that is_

_the finest way I can think of to let you know how much I love you. You'll_

_always be my girl._

_All my love,_

_Doc_

Kitty felt her stomach tighten with emotion fighting to get out. She buried her face into Doc's pillow, in a vain attempt to stop the grief, but it was a battle lost before it was begun. She heard the jingle of Haggen's spurs, and a moment later felt his weight on the cot, followed by his hands on her shaking shoulders.

"Aw now, Miss Kitty, don't cry. Please don't cry none..." Festus gently pulled her into his arms, patting her back. "Whut kinda words did that ol' scudder use in that thar letter anyways? Upsettin' ya like that...it's all right now, jes' don't cry no more." But weep she did, and he swallowed hard. "Now you know that ol' Doc wouldn't wantcha ta cry like this..."

With a desperation she couldn't cover, Kitty grabbed Festus by the shirt. "Please, Festus, take me to Hays."

"Wull, it's a-snowin' something awful out thar, Miss Kitty, ain't no stage runnin' today..."

"No. I mean right now. In a carriage, a wagon, on horseback...I don't care. We have to go there, now."

"Simmer down, now, Miss Kitty. You ain't makin' a lick o' sense."

Her tear-filled eyes pleaded with him. "The letter, Festus...he means for us not to be there, that's why he and Matt left in the middle of the night." Haggen frowned and she continued, "He thinks they're gonna hang him, Festus, and by God, unless we can find a way to help him, he's probably right."

Haggen's jaw set tightly. "Ain't nobody gonna hang ol' Doc while I'm still breathin', Miss Kitty, and that thar's the God's honest truth." He gently pushed her to arm's length. "I'm gonna saddle up some horses and pack us some vittles and blankets, you go on back ta the Longbranch and pack yerself up some warm thangs, and somethin' to ride in. If'n we push them horses, we can be ta Hays before ya can say rat run over the roof of the house with a piece o' raw liver in its mouth."

Kitty leaned up and kissed his cheek. "I knew I could count on you, Festus."

He nodded. "And that thar's a pure ol' dee fact, ma'am."


	14. Chapter 14

Matt felt a large lump forming in his throat as he watched Sheriff Taber slam the cell door home. The tall lawman rested a hand on one of the bars in silent support of the occupant. Taber headed toward the connecting door.

"I'm sorry about this fellas, but the law's pretty clear about it."

"It's not your fault, Tom, we know that."

Taber started through the door and hesitated. "Judge Dalton intends to start the trial first thing in the morning, better eat while ya can. You two hungry?"

Dillon looked at Doc sitting on the cot, and the doctor silently shook his head. Dillon responded, "No Tom, but a little hot coffee'd be okay."

"Sure thing. I'll start a fresh pot. Matt, I can make up a bunk for you out here..."

Dillon once again looked at the man he had known for so long, and felt sick inside. "If it's all the same to you, Tom, I'll just take the empty one in here."

"Don't make no difference to me. I'll start that coffee..."

He closed the door and Matt turned to Adams. "Doc? You holdin' up okay?"

"Sure, Matt, just fine."

Dillon pulled a chair up to the bars and sat down. "I want you to tell me again what happened that night."

Agitated, Adams stood and began pacing. "Oh hell, Matt, what good'll that do?"

"I don't know, Doc, we might've missed somethin' is all..."

Adams stopped and walked over toward the bars, reached out a hand to squeeze Dillon's shoulder. "I know you wanna help me, Matt, but nothin's gonna change this. Ruth Bradley came to my office, told me her father was ill. I went with her to the Dodge House, and he was waiting for me with a gun in hand, drunk as a skunk. He fired at me, but was so boozed up, he missed. I disarmed him, thought about killin' him, didn't and left. He attacked me on the landing, we struggled, the gun went off, and well, that's when you came in, so you know the rest."

"Why in the hell is Ruth Bradley insisting that you came there to kill him?"

Doc's face grew red with anger and he took up his pacing once more. "I don't know."

Dillon stood. "Doc, I've known you a long time, and you're not telling me everything."

"So now you think I'm guilty?"

"No, but by golly, before I get on that witness stand tomorrow, I want the whole story."

Adams blinked away tears, his voice becoming soft, "You don't know what you're askin'..."

Matt reached through the bars, pulling the small man closer to him. "Please Doc..."

The old doctor's voice sounded vulnerable, "I didn't kill the man, Matt, not on purpose. I swear it."

Matt squeezed the shoulder under his large hand. "I know you didn't, Doc. I'm just trying to find a way to save your life."

"But Matt--"

"--Doc, this isn't just for you. It's for Kitty, and Festus...and me."

The old man nodded, the stark honesty almost too much to bear. And he knew he couldn't keep the truth from Matt any longer.

* * *

Ruth Bradley sat in the dark of her hotel room, Kitty Russell's words once again running through her mind. What if the woman was right? She slammed her eyes shut against the guilt of her own heart, and the sorrow she remembered seeing in Miss Russell's face. But her father was still dead, and someone should have to pay for that. And someone would. Dr. Adams would. The soft knock at her door made her jump. She stood, uncertainty filling her.

"Who is it?"

"Marshall Dillon from Dodge."

"Just...just a moment, Marshall."

She dried her face, straightened her hair and lit a lantern, then opened the door.

"What is it, Marshall?"

Dillon removed his hat. "I'd like a chance to speak with you for a moment, Miss Bradley. It won't take long."

"Is this official business, Marshall Dillon?"

He twisted his hat in his hands. "Well yes and no, miss..."

"What does that mean?"

"Please, may I come in?"

"I don't think so, Marshall, no. You see, I had a similar visit from Miss Russell in Dodge to no avail. I'd like to avoid another such confrontation."

"Kitty spoke to you?"

She noted the surprise in his voice. "Yes she did, Marshall. I get the feeling that you people would do or say anything to save your town doctor."

His eyes narrowed in anger. "We'd just like the truth, Miss Bradley; nothing more, nothing less."

"I have given it to you."

"No Miss Bradley, I don't think you have."

"He killed my father, Marshall, you saw it yourself." A smile of satisfaction crossed her face. "You'll have to testify to it tomorrow."

"What I saw was your father fall down the stairs and Doc standing with a gun at the top. It could easily have happened the way he says it did. My testimony won't matter one way or the other. It doesn't prove anything beyond what Doc himself says happened."

"Doctor Adams took my father away from me, Mr. Dillon, and he's going to pay for it."

"Your father took Doc's entire family from him, Miss Bradley. But Doc didn't kill him for it."

"My father was a great doctor, Marshall Dillon, with a wonderful reputation. No half-shod country bumpkin's going to take that away from him."

"You'd rather see Doc dead than to have the truth about your father's drinking come out, wouldn't you? You're a very selfish woman, Miss Bradley. And if I were you, I wouldn't count on this truth staying hidden."

"It won't save his life, Marshall."

"If you were a man, Miss Bradley, I'd flatten you."

Dillon put his hat back on his head and left without waiting for a response. A moment later he heard the door slam, and a slight smile turned his lips: the woman wasn't without a guilty conscience; perhaps it could be used to their advantage. He sighed, hoping there'd be enough time.


	15. Chapter 15

Matt lie on the cold bunk in the dark, watching the figure in the cell toss and turn in a disturbed sleep, his only consolation in the fact that his friend was able to sleep at all. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, a generous amount of moonlight pouring in from the one window, throwing shadows from the wind blowing in the branches outside. Dillon pulled his blanket up higher, unable to rid the chill that had plagued him all night. He looked over at the old man once more and wondered if maybe that was why his sleep was so restless. Quietly Dillon arose, opened the connecting door, gently picked the keys off the peg and unlocked the cell. He silently entered, and carefully covered the doctor with the two blankets that were on the end of the bunk.

After watching Doc settle down slightly, Matt locked the door, returned the keys and put his clothes and boots on. Careful not to make a sound, the marshall put on his hat, coat and gloves and left the jailhouse. There was no destination in mind, only the need to get some air and clear his head. With his hands shoved deeply into his coat pockets, Dillon walked through the pristine snow, slowly making his way to the edge of town. The moon was bright and reflected off the white blanket on the ground, and it reminded him of Dodge, and happier times. A gust of wind blew harshly down the street, tossing whiffs of fresh snow into Dillon's face. Suddenly feeling tired, Matt sat down on a bench on the boardwalk in front of the barber shop.

He doubted sincerely that Ruth Bradley would come around, as much as he doubted that Doc could be convinced to tell about his family in court; and his heart felt sick. Even in the cold of the night, and the beauty of the snow-covered earth, Matt felt as if he could no longer breathe. He looked down at the silver badge pinned to his coat lapel. For most of his life, Matt Dillon had abided by the law; he had served the principles behind the symbol he wore on his chest, and he had for the most part, done it gladly. But this was different. Matt Dillon could no longer see his path in front of him; there was only doubt, sorrow and fear. He knew in his heart that when it came down to it, he would be unable to stand by and watch Doc Adams hang. And Matt started to remove the badge.

But his old friend haunted him, and his hand froze in mid-motion. Doc would be the first person to tell him to let the law do what it must; that he was merely an instrument, and that he needed to stay true to it in order to live with himself. Matt's eyes filled with tears, and he shut them trying to hold it in. He was certain that Doc Adams had no idea how much he meant to all of them, and to Dillon, that was the saddest fact of all. And there, on the bench in front of the barber shop in Hays City, in the windy cold of winter, Matt Dillon wept.


	16. Chapter 16

Matt had no idea how long he'd been sitting on the bench in front of the barber shop, but he was cold and stiff. He stood, and glanced up the street, staring in awe at the sight approaching him: a man on a mule, pulling a gelding with a woman, and they looked very familiar. He ran toward them.

"Festus! Kitty!" Matt went to Kitty, who looked like she might fall off her horse. "Kitty... what are you doing here?"

"Matt?" She reached for him and he pulled her off the horse and into his arms. "Oh Matt...I didn't think we'd ever get here."

Dillon looked up at Haggen, unable to keep all the anger from his timbre, "Festus, what in the hell were you thinking; you should have known better than to attempt this ride during such a heavy snowfall. Anything could have happened to the two of you."

Haggen stepped down from his mule, and looked at the glistening snow on the ground. "I tried to tell her, Matthew, but she wouldn't hear of it."

"He's right Matt, I wouldn't take 'no' for an answer."

Dillon shook his head. "Come on, let's get the two of you inside, you both look half frozen to death."

"I'll meetcha over yonder, Matthew, I'm gonna put Ruth and Toby up first."

"All right. See you over at the jailhouse."

"I'll do her Matthew, and see you directly."

Haggen moved toward the livery with the two animals, and Matt walked with his arm around Kitty toward the Sheriff's office. "Damn fool thing to do."

"There was no choice."

"We left in the middle of the night for a reason, you know. I thought he wrote you a note..."

"He wrote a note all right. Matt, after readin' it there was no way I was stayin' in Dodge and lettin' the two of you face this alone."

"What in the world did that old turkey-buzzard tell you?" When Kitty didn't answer, Matt decided not to push her. "C'mon...it's a lot warmer in the office."

* * *

Dillon settled Festus on the bunk Tom had originally fixed up for him, and he quietly took Kitty into the back room. The two of them softly padded past the sleeping doctor, and into the open cell next to him. Matt settled down on the bunk, and pulled Kitty onto it with him, holding her closely. She pressed into his body, feeling his warmth, and more than that, his comfort. She closed her eyes and let out a long sigh, the last of her strength, gone. Sensing her need, Matt tightened his arms around her, pulling her even closer.

He whispered into her hair, "I spoke with Ruth Bradley tonight..."

She looked up at him, the pale moonlight from the window softening his features slightly. "Any luck?"

"No more than you had, apparently." She looked slightly surprised and he continued, "She told me you spoke to her back in Dodge."

Kitty nodded. "I did, and toward the end of that conversation, I really thought I had a shot at the guilt angle, but now I don't think so."

"What made the difference?"

"If she was a person with a conscience, Matt, she wouldn't have let it come this far." She looked over at the sleeping figure in the cell, and her voice turned sad, "She wouldn't be able to do this to him. Not to Doc."

Before her emotions could have their way with her, Kitty buried her face into Matt's chest, and he held her to him. As she drifted off to sleep, the last thing she was aware of was his gentle breath against her skin.


	17. Chapter 17

"I hate to wake him, Matt."

"Judge Dalton's startin' proceedings at nine sharp. It's after seven now...he'll need to clean up a bit, and have some breakfast."

Kitty peered through the open door at the sleeping figure, and nodded. "You're right. Is there some coffee?"

Tom poured a cup and handed it to her. "Here you are, Miss Russell. I'll head down to Mitchell's and get him some breakfast."

Matt handed Kitty the keys to the cell as Taber left. "He might be a little sore about you and Festus bein' here..."

"I can handle it, Matt."

He nodded and watched her walk through the door, closing it decisively behind her. Festus stepped up to Dillon, handing him a cup of steaming liquid.

"This pot's a mite better n' the first, Matthew, that thar one was a tad on the weak side..."

Matt's eyebrow raised in response to the comment. "I reckon you're right about that, Festus, since you didn't make it."

Haggen scowled at his friend, and then looked worriedly toward the door to the cells. "I'm feelin' a tad nerv-i-ous about this here trial, Matthew."

"So do I, Festus, but whatever it takes to make Doc feel secure is what we're gonna do."

"Truer words ain't never been spoke, Matthew."

* * *

Kitty unlocked the door and opened it, walking in. Doc was sleeping on his side, facing the cell door. She softly sat down on the edge of the bunk.

"Doc? Doc, it's time to wake up..."

The pale blue eyes wearily opened, and he frowned as he focused on the woman sitting next to him. She smiled at him despite the coolness of his mien, and ran a hand through his unruly hair.

"Morning, handsome...I brought you some coffee."

His voice held an edge, "Brought it all the way from Dodge didja?"

"Now Doc--"

"--No you don't." He stood up, practically shoving her out of the way, some of the coffee from the mug spilling onto the floor. "You're not gonna soft-soap me. I left you a note tellin' you that I didn't want you here." His eyes filled and his voice belied his emotion, "I didn't want that..."

He turned away from her, his hands shoved down into the pockets of his pants. Kitty set the coffee mug down on a nearby chair and moved up behind him, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. Doc's head dropped and he closed his eyes.

"If you know me at all, then you know damned well that I couldn't stay away. Not now; not when you need me."

Tears streamed down his face, but with his back still to her, she couldn't see them. His voice turned to a hard whisper.

"I don't recall sayin' I need you."

Kitty shoved down the desire to recoil from the hurtful comment, and reminded herself why he was saying it. Instead of retreating away from him, she moved closer, wrapping her arms around his chest and shoulders, pulling his back into her. His muscles tensed trying to hold onto the simulated anger, but a moment later, she felt him shudder with emotion.

Kitty leaned the side of her head into his, speaking softly into his ear, "I know you want to protect me, Doc, and I love you for that; but I'm not goin'." Her voice shook slightly as she continued, "No matter what happens, I'm not goin'."

He reached up to the arms that were wrapped around his chest, picked up one of her hands and kissed it, holding it tightly in his own large one. Then wordlessly, he broke out of her grip and stepped a few paces away, still keeping his back to her. As he pulled out his handkerchief to wipe his face, he finally spoke.

"Still offerin' that cup of coffee?" He turned to face her then, a gentle smile lighting his lips. "I could sure use some."

She smiled back at him, despite the tears sliding gracefully down her cheeks, and handed him the mug. He reached up to her face and softly brushed the tears away with his finger, then he took a sip of the coffee. And a slightly impish grin tugged at his lips, and his eyes twinkled over the top of the mug.

"You brought Festus with you, didn'tcha?"

And for the first time in several days, Kitty Russell laughed, in spite of the situation. "Yes, Doc, I brought Festus _and_ his mule."

"And that ol' flea-bitten jackass made it all the way from Dodge in a snowstorm did he?"

"Now Doc, you know how Festus feels about Ruth, I doubt he'd take kindly to you callin' him a 'flea-bitten jackass.'"

He took another sip of his coffee. "Who said I was talkin' about Ruth?"

They both laughed, but the lightness in the room dissipated quickly. His demeanor was suddenly sullen, and Kitty sensed that his mind had turned to much graver matters. She watched him take a few more sips of his coffee, then walked over to him, taking a hold of his chin with her hand, as if inspecting it.

"You plannin' on a shave?"

He chuckled slightly. "Guess I'd better. Don't wanna give the good folks of Hays the wrong impression." She turned to leave, but he called to her, "Kitty..." She looked back at him, and after a long pause he said, "If at any time this gets too hard for you, I don't want you to hesitate to leave, I'll understand."

Her eyes searched his for the truth, and her tone was without accusation, "Is it too hard for you to have me here?"

"What's better for me isn't what we're talkin' about."

She looked deeply into the pale blue eyes. "You can't protect me from this, Doc. What happens to you, happens to Matt, and Festus, and me. It happens to the whole town of Dodge, don't you know that?"

His deep voice was like a soft, tentative caress, "You might have to remind me now and again..."

Kitty shook her head, walked over to him, and kissed his cheek. "I can do that, handsome, don't you worry."

He watched her glide from the room, closing the door behind her, and Doc Adams felt nothing but intense pride in the daughter that God had given back to him.


	18. Chapter 18

He felt the heavy hand on his shoulder and didn't need to look to know that Festus was beside him as he was escorted to the Hays City Courthouse. Adams was silently grateful, and for once didn't jerk away from his friend, as was part of their customary discourse; it wasn't lost on Festus. The deputy tried to keep his voice pleasant and easy.

"I'm a-thankin' that after all o' this hoopla n' folderol's done over with, we should go a-fishin' at Cottonwood Crick." Doc nodded, but was so touched by his friend's effort to comfort him, he couldn't bring himself to speak. Haggen continued, trying to keep things light, "I'm a-fixin' ta catch me that 50-pounder I done seen, and we'll have us a fish fry at the Longbranch that'll set all o' Dodge on its ear." Adams remained silent, but Haggen noticed that the old man's head had dropped some, and he squeezed the shoulder under his hand, His voice took on dismay. "Now Doc, you ortn'ta worry, thangs is gonna turn out all right, don'tcha see?"

Adams looked at him then, no longer able to cover his trepidation. "No Festus, I don't see that right now. I don't see that at all."

Haggen kept his hand on Doc's shoulder. "Wull then I'll just have ta see it for both of us."

The lump in the doctor's throat made his eyes sting with emotion, and if Haggen hadn't been moving him in the direction he needed to go, he would have stumbled from the blur in his eyes for certain. Following several paces behind, Kitty nodded to Dillon, indicating that he should move up with the two men. In as much as she wanted to be with him, she understood that Doc needed the comfort of Festus and Matt far more in that moment.

Matt walked up from behind and stood on the other side of Adams, also putting his arm around Doc's shoulder. "We're with you, Doc. We're gonna get through this together."

Adams' voice was small, "I'm sorry you two have to go through this at all, I truly am."

Festus and Matt exchanged a glance, and Haggen answered, "Aw, fiddle, Doc, we wusn't doin' nuthin' anyways..."

Doc's head snapped up to glare at Haggen, and the sweet smile that met him filled him with warmth. Adams looked away, and while he couldn't muster his usual tone, he responded, "Ya dang mule..."

Festus made a puffing noise with his mouth, "Derned ol' billy goat..."

Matt smiled, and squeezed Doc's shoulder. The three men and the Sheriff's escort walked the rest of the way to the courthouse in silence, with Kitty following several paces behind.


	19. Chapter 19

He forced himself to sit still and listen to Halligan's testimony about the night Doc threatened Aaron Bradley at Delmonico's, but he was growing increasingly queasy with every passing word. Matt glanced over to see Kitty fighting to maintain her decorum, and next to her, Festus was squirming in his seat. Dillon then looked toward the defense table just beyond the wooden rail separating the gallery from the courtroom floor; Tom McClennan sat upright with his hands neatly folded on the table, looking as confident as ever; while in contrast, Adams slumped in his chair, defeat clinging to him like a cloud of dust. In all the years he had known Doc, he had never seen the man look so desolate, and so alone. Matt swallowed hard trying to rid his throat of the lump that had formed, his heart aching with desire to be able to look Doc in the eye and tell him that everything was going to be all right; that it was going to go their way. But Marshall Matt Dillon had attended enough trials, and had seen plenty of jurors to know that this one wasn't going their way at all.

Beeman's voice cut into Matt's thoughts. "What did Dr. Adams do then, Mr. Halligan?"

"Well Marshall Dillon had to pull him off of Dr. Bradley. Ol' Doc was madder'n a wet hen. I ain't never seen him so mad..."

"Was he mad enough to kill, Mr. Halligan?"

"Objection!" Tom McClennan stood. "Your honor, that is conjecture. There is no way that Mr. Halligan can know what the defendant was thinking."

Judge Dalton nodded. "Sustained." He looked at Beeman. "Confine your questions to facts, Mr. Beeman."

The D.A. smiled. "Yes, your honor." He turned toward Halligan once again. "In your _opinion_, Mr. Halligan, did Dr. Adams seem mad enough to kill?"

McClennan banged his hand on the table and stood. "Objection! Your honor--"

"--Mind your tone, Counselor."

"I apologize, your honor, but he asked the same question."

Beeman spoke up, "No, I did not. I asked if Dr. Adams _seemed_ mad enough to kill in Mr. Halligan's _opinion_. It is not conjecture, nor is it speaking to any absolute other than the mind of the witness based upon what he saw."

Dalton raised an eyebrow, but looked toward McClennan. "I'd have to agree with Mr. Beeman on this one. An opinion is just that and is admissible from an eyewitness."

McClennan sighed deeply, but sat down. Dillon noticed that Doc's head never raised up during the exchange, nor did he show any interest in the outcome. Matt had seen the behavior before in defendants who had given up all hope. Dillon felt his eyes sting; he couldn't bear the thought of Doc being so lost. He felt the hand touch his and he glanced over to see Kitty smile slightly at him. He squeezed her hand, and then returned his attention to the proceeding.

"As I said before," Halligan stated with confidence, "I ain't never seen Doc Adams so mad. I mean, he's got quite a temper on him in general, but I ain't never seen him look like that."

"Doctor Adams has a bad temper, Mr. Halligan?"

Halligan smiled, as if it were all some kind of fanciful play-acting, "Everybody in Dodge knows about ol' Doc's temper! Why ya don't never wanna git him mad...he might take out your liver when ya ain't lookin' or somethin'!"

There was general laughter from the courtroom, and Dalton banged his gavel on the bench. "Order! This court will have order!" After a moment the room quieted, and Dalton looked at Beeman. "Is that all, counsel?"

"Yes your honor, I'm finished with this witness."

"Very well." He looked at Tom. "Mr. McClennan, he's all yours."

McClennan stood up and approached Halligan. "Let's go back for a moment, Mr. Halligan. You made the comment that Dr. Adams might take out a man's liver simply because he was angry. Did you mean that literally?"

"Literally?"

"Yes, did you mean it seriously? Would Dr. Adams take out a man's liver because he was mad?"

"Well of course not! He's a crotchety old coot, but he's too good a sawbones to do somethin' like that. I just meant that his goat can be got."

"But he wouldn't literally--uh, seriously in a real way--inflict harm on another person?"

"Objection! Leading the witness and straying from fact of case, your honor."

"Sustained. Mr. McClennan, please stick to the case at hand, and phrase your questions in an appropriate manner."

"Yes, your honor." He faced Halligan once more. "In your _opinion_, Mr. Halligan, would Dr. Adams willfully harm another human being?"

"Nah..." McClennan, sensing he had the upper hand, smiled; but then Halligan continued, "Not unless he had reason."

"I want that comment struck, your honor, the witness went beyond the question."

"Indeed he did, Mr. McClennan, but I'd like to hear more. Mr. Halligan, you were saying?"

"I was just sayin' that in my opinion, Doc Adams wouldn't never do nothin' to nobody unless he had some kinda reason."

The judge prompted him. "Such as?"

"Well you know, judge...like somebody hurt Miss Kitty, or Festus or the marshall, and Doc was payin' 'em back."

"Like revenge?"

"Yeah judge, like that. But outside of that, I can't see it..."

"Oh hell, Halligan!" Festus stood, anger lighting his eyes. "Why don't you jes' put the noose 'round ol' Doc's neck? It'd be a helluva lot faster!"

The judge banged his gavel on the bench. "Who are you?"

"Festus Haggen, yer honor, from Dodge City."

"A friend of the defendant's, judge," Beeman filled in.

"I see...well Mr. Haggen, please refrain from any further outbursts, or I will have you remanded to jail for contempt. Do I make myself clear?"

"Clear as mud..."

"What?"

Festus snarled, "Yes, yer honor, I hear ya..."

Kitty took Haggen's hand, and gently pulled him back down in his chair. "Take it easy, Festus, Doc needs all of us here, not in jail."

He nodded, but the look on his face didn't leave Kitty with any kind of secure feeling.

Judge Dalton glanced at McClennan. "Counsel?"

"I'm finished with this witness, your honor."

"Very well. I'm calling a recess for dinner. We will reconvene in one hour. Court is adjourned."

Kitty, Matt and Festus moved forward to surround Doc's chair, and McClennan sat down heavily next to him as the courtroom quickly emptied for the recess.

"That didn't go too well," Dillon commented.

"No marshall," McClennan answered, "no it didn't."

Kitty brushed her fingers through Doc's hair. "You okay, handsome? You look a little peaked."

He smiled weakly up at her. "I'm fine, honey."

Festus pat Doc's shoulder. "Come on ya ol' scudder, let's get some vittles in ya before we have ta come back here for round two."

"Thanks Festus, but I'm not particularly hungry just now. I think I'd like to just go lie down for awhile. Why don't the three of you get somethin' and I'll see you back here..."

Matt's voice was gentle, but held concern, "Doc, you didn't eat breakfast, or supper last night, I really think you should try and eat something."

"I'm the doctor, and I know what I need. Now the three of you go on." He turned to his lawyer. "Tom, I'd like to speak with you if I could."

"Sure Doc, about the case?"

The old man shook his head. "No sir. I wanna make out a will."

Doc stood, and accompanied by the sheriff and McClennan, left the room. Kitty couldn't keep the tears from falling.

"Oh Matt..."

He pulled her into his chest, and held her. Festus, on the verge of tears himself, just stood there, uncomfortable and unable to do anything to help.

"Festus, why don't you go get us a table at Wiley's?"

"I'll do her, Matthew, but I don't see none of us eatin' nuthin'..."

"Probably not, but we can at least have some coffee. Kitty and I'll join you directly."

"All right, Matthew."

Festus walked out of the courtroom, and Matt sat Kitty down for a minute. "You okay?"

She shook her head. "No. Doc was right. I can't handle this..."

Matt brushed her cheeks with the back of his hand. "Sure you can. We all can, because that's what Doc needs us to do."

"Matt..." She glanced down, ashamed of the question she wanted to ask.

"What is it, Kitty?"

She looked up at him then, her eyes intense with fear. "If they convict him, what are you gonna do about it?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're not gonna let them hang him... You're not gonna let them hang Doc."

Not wanting to involve her in the conspiracy that he knew he and Festus would perpetrate, Matt didn't want to answer.

"Matt, I'm askin' you where you stand."

"Kitty, I've lived by this badge my whole life," he looked at her meaningfully, "I've given up a lot, because I've always believed in the law. Do you honestly expect me to turn my back on it now?"

"You'd honor that damned badge before the man who's been one of the best friends you ever had?"

Dillon swallowed hard, his voice soft. "He's a lot more than just a friend..."

"And you'll let him die?" When he didn't answer her, Kitty glared at him. "I sure as hell hope I'm never in a predicament like this, because I know you'll choose the badge over my life too."

Matt felt sicker than he ever had in his life as he watched Kitty storm away, but he had to let her go: she was far safer not knowing what would transpire if the jury found Doc guilty. And Matt Dillon had a sinking feeling that just such a verdict would come to pass.

* * *

"Oh Mr. Beeman..."

The D.A. turned to see Ruth Bradley heading right toward him. "Yes ma'am?"

"Did I understand right? Mr. Halligan testified that Doc Adams is vengeful?"

"Yes, you did, why?"

"Well, Marshall Dillon came to me last night, and told me a very interesting history about Doc Adams and my father."

"Are you saying there's a motive for revenge?"

She smiled, "Yes, Mr. Beeman, I think there is..."


	20. Chapter 20

The judge looked at the D.A. "All right Mr. Beeman, are you ready to call your next witness?"

"Yes, your honor. The state of Kansas calls Marshall Matthew Dillon."

Matt felt his insides shaking as he made his way to the witness chair. The bailiff held out a bible, and Dillon placed his right hand on it.

"Do you swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

"I do."

Dillon sat down and Beeman approached him. "Marshall, how long have you known Doc Adams?"

Matt looked over at the old man with the slumping shoulders sitting at the defense table. "I've known Doc for as long as I've been marshall of Dodge City, and that's goin' on 12 years now."

"That's a long time. Would you say that the two of you are good friends?"

A scowl crossed Matt's brow. "Yes, I'd say we're good friends. What does that have to do with anything?"

Beeman smiled. "I'm just establishing that you're a hostile witness, marshall." Dillon shuffled in his chair, glaring at the D.A. "Tell me about the night you went to dinner with Doctor Adams, Festus Haggen and Kitty Russell at Delmonico's."

Matt stared at the man, and a guileful smile twisted his lips. "You'll have to be more specific than that, Mr. Beeman, the four of us eat supper together at Delmonico's quite a lot."

Beeman pursed his lips; apparently the marshall had decided to be more than just a little hostile. "Very well, Mr. Dillon. I'm speaking of the night that Dr. Aaron Bradley and his daughter Ruth showed up at Delmonico's. Does that clear it up for you?"

"I suppose so, Mr. Beeman."

"Well then, tell us about it."

"There's not much to tell. The four of us were having supper, when Dr. Bradley and his daughter walked in. Doc looked a little shaken--"

"--shaken Mr. Dillon, or angry?"

Matt glared at the man. "I said shaken, and that's what I meant." He looked at the judge. "This is _my_ testimony according to the way I saw things, isn't it judge?"

"Yes Mr. Dillon, as long as truth of fact is being served."

The meaning was clear, and Dillon's lips pulled into a tight line. "I'm tellin' it the way I saw it, nothing more nothing less."

"Please continue, marshall," the judge prompted.

"Doc looked shaken when he saw the Bradleys, but didn't say anything for a minute or so. Then he got up and walked over to them, and asked if the man was Dr. Aaron Bradley from Easton, Maryland. The man said he was, but didn't seem to remember Doc." Dillon swallowed slightly before he continued. "Doc said they had met a long time ago, but still Bradley didn't remember him. After Doc told him his name, Bradley recalled having met him, but said he didn't know that Doc had become a physician..."

"What happened then, marshall?"

Dillon licked his lips. "Doc said he had to become a doctor to save people from men like Dr. Bradley."

"Did you know what he meant?"

"No, I did not."

"What happened next?"

"Doc got upset and grabbed Bradley by the lapel, and shortly after that I pulled him off."

Beeman sighed deeply; Dillon was going to have to be prodded. "Did Dr. Adams threaten Dr. Bradley?"

Matt squirmed slightly in his chair. "I suppose that depends upon what you'd call a threat, Mr. Beeman."

"Don't be cagey, marshall, just answer the question. Did Dr. Adams threaten Dr. Bradley's life?"

Matt looked down at his hands, wringing them together, and then slowly he looked over at Doc who nodded his support at him. Dillon had to look away as he ground out the answer. "Yes."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Dillon, but can you repeat that loudly enough for the court to hear?"

Matt's teeth were clenched together, "Yes, Doc threatened him."

"Fine, marshall, fine. Now let's move on to the night of the murder."

"Objection!" McClennan stood. "_Alleged_ murder..."

"Sustained." Dalton turned to Beeman, "Innocent until proven guilty, Mr. Beeman, let's not let it slide."

"Yes your honor." He looked at Dillon. "Please tell us about what you saw at the Dodge House on the night of the _alleged _murder, marshall."

Matt felt the lump in his throat tighten. "The desk clerk at the Dodge House, Howie Culver, came to the jailhouse and woke me up. He said he heard a gunshot, so I grabbed my gunbelt and ran over to the hotel. As I walked in, I saw Aaron Bradley falling down the stairs."

"And where was Dr. Adams?"

Matt's lips quivered slightly, and he couldn't keep the emotion from his voice as he answered, "He was standing at the top of the stairs, a gun in his hand."

"Had the weapon been fired?"

"In self-defense, yes."

"Self-defense? Did you see the shooting, marshall?"

"No, I arrived just afterward."

"So you can't really say that it was self-defense."

Dillon's voice took on an edgy quality, "Doc Adams told me it was, so I know that it's true."

"Because you're his friend, marshall. You can't say so from point of fact as an eyewitness. Isn't that right?"

Matt looked down. "That's right. But it doesn't change what I know."

"Let's move on, Mr. Dillon."

"Move on to what?"

"Did Dr. Adams have a motive for killing Dr. Bradley?"

Matt felt his stomach drop down to his knees. "What do you mean?"

"The question is clear, marshall, did Dr. Adams have a reason to want to kill Dr. Bradley?"

Dillon looked past Beeman, at his old friend sitting several feet away. Doc's pale eyes bore into Matt's with such pleading it cut Dillon's heart to shreds. The two men held each other's gaze for a moment longer, until the marshall could no longer stand it, and broke away. Beeman stepped closer to Dillon's chair.

"Marshall, we're all waiting..."

Matt's voice was soft, the emotion in his throat constricting his tone, "They knew each other almost thirty years ago back east."

"In Easton, Maryland, to be exact, isn't that right?"

"Objection, leading the witness." McClennan interjected.

"Sustained. Mr. Beeman, don't make me warn you again..."

The man nodded and looked at Dillon. "Where did they know each other?"

Matt glared at the man. "As you say, in Easton."

"Tell us why they had occasion to know each other, marshall."

Matt looked at Doc, apologetic moisture glossing his eyes, then slowly he turned toward the D.A. "Dr. Bradley was the physician attending to Doc Adams' wife, who was in labor."

A slight gasp followed by muttering filled the courtroom, as the information was digested by the people in the gallery. Feeling her heart pulsing with emotion, Kitty looked over at Doc, who had leaned his elbows on the table and buried his face into his hands. Always an intensely private man, she could just imagine that this public display of his life was tearing him up inside. Kitty couldn't keep her own sorrow still, and openly began to weep. Festus put his arm around her, and pulled her into his shoulder.

Dalton banged his gavel down on the wooden bench. "Order! Order I say! Please continue, Marshall Dillon."

"Dr. Bradley was an excessive drinker--"

"--Objection, your honor," Beeman broke in, "hearsay."

Dalton turned to Dillon. "How is it you know that, marshall?"

"In addition to Doc Adams sayin' so, Bradley was tried for negligence due to intoxication shortly after Margaret Adams and her son died in childbirth."

Dalton looked at Beeman. "Was this man found guilty on this charge, counsel?"

"No your honor, he was acquitted."

Dalton looked at Dillon. "The witness will refrain from referring to Dr. Bradley as an excessive drinker. Continue."

Dillon swallowed. "I have nothing else to add, your honor."

Beeman put his hands on the rail directly in front of Dillon, leaning in. "A moment ago you testified that Dr. Adams thought Bradley was intoxicated. Did he believe that his wife and child died because of Dr. Aaron Bradley?"

Anger filling him, Dillon stood up, towering over Beeman. "What do you think? Doc Adams smelled alcohol on Dr. Bradley's breath, and the next thing he knew his wife and child were dead. Not long after, Doc's only daughter committed suicide because she felt guilty that she was still alive, and the man who caused it all was acquitted a month later. How do you think you'd feel, Mr. Beeman?"

Beeman backed slightly away from the angry marshall. "I'm sure I'd feel upset, Mr. Dillon, but I hope I wouldn't kill the man almost thirty years later out of vengence."

Matt swallowed hard: his anger had overtaken him, and he'd said too much. He looked over at Doc, tears in his eyes. Doc mustered a smile for Matt, which only made the marshall feel worse.

Beeman spoke to the judge, "I'm finished with this witness, your honor."

Dalton looked at McClennan. "Your witness, counsel."

"No questions at this time, your honor, but I'd like to call the marshall back later as a character witness."

"Fine. Marshall Dillon, you may step down for now."

As Matt started to move, his legs felt wobbly, and he could barely move them one in front of the other. As he passed by the defense table, he sorrowfully looked at Adams. "I'm so sorry, Doc."

Adams nodded at his old friend. "You got nothin' to be sorry fer, Matt. Ya only did what that badge told ya you had to; don't you worry about it."

And those words did nothing to comfort Matt Dillon's troubled heart, which was breaking with guilt and sadness.


	21. Chapter 21

"You should have told me about the history between you and Aaron Bradley; it blindsided me completely."

Doc looked away. "I'm sorry, Tom; it's not something I ever talk about."

He pat Adams' shoulder. "Tomorrow's another day, and after Beeman calls his last witness--"

"--that gonna be Ruth Bradley?"

"Yes it is. After she gives her testimony, it's our turn, and I'm going to hit them with everything we've got."

Doc looked at him skeptically. "Exactly what is it that we've got, Tom?"

"We've got some pretty strong character witnesses, and then there will be your testimony as to the events of that night. And Doc, in order to undo the vengeance motive Beeman's built into this case, I'm going to have to ask you about what happened back in Easton on the stand."

Adams looked at him sharply. "No sir, no you don't. I won't talk about that."

"Doc, we don't have any choice. If we don't gain the jury's sympathy, well..."

"I know, I've had it." Doc sat heavily on the cot in the jail cell, and tugged on his ear slightly. Then he looked up at his attorney. "Tom, if that jury decides to hang me after hearin' the truth of that night, then so be it, but I'll be damned if I talk about somethin' so private..."

Doc looked away, unable to finish the sentence. McClennan glanced down for a moment, then back at the saddened man before him.

"Doc, if we don't let the jury hear about the pain Bradley put you through, I don't think there's a thing I can do to save you from this."

Adams stared into the young man's eyes. "I understand that, Tom." His voice took on a hardness that McClennan hadn't heard before. "My dead wife, baby and daughter are not up for discussion, and that's final. If you bring it up in court, I will ask the judge to replace you as my lawyer."

McClennan shook his head. "I think you're being a fool, but it's your neck, Doc. Let me ask you this though: what will you do if Beeman asks you about it?"

"I ain't gonna answer him."

"The judge will find you in contempt."

Doc let out a hollow laugh. "Tell me how that's worse than hangin'?"

The two men stared at each other for a moment, then quietly, McClennan walked into the main room of the Hays city jail, closing the connecting door behind him. Matt, Festus and Kitty stared at him expectantly. He let out a long sigh of air.

"I wish I had something good to tell you, but Beeman killed us today with the whole vengeance motive, and Doc Adams refuses to tell his side of it in court tomorrow."

Kitty's voice belied her fear, "Are you sayin' he doesn't stand a chance?"

"Not if he doesn't tell his side of things. And I mean all of it, including what happened back in Easton."

Matt spoke up, "Well if he's asked about it on the stand, he has to answer..."

"He just told me he simply wouldn't answer any questions on the subject."

Festus asked, "Won't the judge make him answer?"

Matt turned to his deputy. "Festus, you can't force a man to answer. The judge will simply find him in contempt, which in the end, doesn't matter, because by that time, the jury will be dead set against him."

McClennan picked up his hat and satchel. "Listen, he looks pretty worn out, and what I think he needs most right now are his friends, so I'll leave you all to it. Try and get him to eat something if you can, and I'll see you all first thing in the morning. Good night."

"Good night, Mr. McClennan," Matt said.

"See ya directly..." Festus added.

"Good night," Kitty said as an afterthought. She turned to Matt. "I'll go down to Wiley's and get him something to eat, why don't the two of you see if you can cheer him up, and then I'll try talking to him over supper."

Matt nodded. "Come on, Festus..."

The deputy followed the marshall through the door and into the cell area. Doc looked up at the two men and smiled wearily.

"They'll just let anyone in here, won't they?"

"I guess so, Doc," Matt said quietly. "How're you holdin' up?"

"I'm a little tired, Matt, but other than that, I'm okay."

Dillon couldn't meet the old man's gaze. "Doc...I don't know what to say about that testimony today."

Doc stood and moved closer to the bars so that he could touch Matt's arm. "I already toldja, Matt, it ain't nothin' fer you to worry about, and I meant it." Seeing that Dillon was overcome with emotion, Doc turned his piercing gaze on Haggen. "And what cat's grabbed your tongue?"

"Aw ya blamed ol' scudder, ain't nothin' got my tongue." He looked sadly into the pale eyes. "I jes' couldn't thank o' nuthin' good ta say."

"Well this has turned out to be a fine wake; I haven't even been convicted yet, and the two of you are actin' like I'm already dead. We don't even have any damned whiskey to toast what a great man I was..."

Festus tried to rally a few insults for Adams' sake. "Oh thar ya go, ya ol' quackity-quack, jes' a bellerin' and a faunchin' and tellin' folks what they's a-thankin'... If'n somebody met you out on the street, they'd be tryin' ta find some ways ta stuff their ears with socks to keep from hearin' ya prattlin' on..."

"Oh they would, would they? Well lemme tell you somethin' ya mangy ol' flea-bitten, mule-headed second-cousin-to-trouble itself, I wouldn't waste so much as another breath on ya if I hadn't been stuck with ya since the day ya wandered into Dodge!"

Festus stared at Adams for a second, then said, "Trouble? I ain't got no second cousin called Trouble... got me a first cousin called Foible, but that's as close as she gits..."

Matt laughed at Doc's sour expression for the first time in days.

"Oh for pete's sake, Matt, can't you take him somewhere? Anywhere but here?"

"Come on Festus, let's leave Doc alone for a few minutes..."

Adams' voice was soft, "Matt?"

"Yeah?"

"Where's Kitty?"

"She'll be here in a minute; she went to get you some supper."

Adams nodded, but said nothing, and Dillon knew enough to leave it alone. He pat Haggen on the shoulder and the two men walked out, closing the door behind them. Doc sat for the first time that day in the silence of his own thoughts, and he found he didn't like them at all. He looked at the grey of the cold stone walls, and he shivered. He couldn't abide the idea of standing on the hangman's platform, hands tied behind his back, a noose around his neck, and looking either Kitty or Festus in the eyes. Their anguish would break him, and he'd cry like a baby.

The only one he could bear to look upon in that moment would be Matt. He smiled at the irony of it: in many ways it would be hardest on Matt, but Doc was certain that the marshall of Dodge wouldn't show it, and it would be in his eyes that Doc would himself find strength. Fate was a funny thing. He heard the door to the room opening, and he quickly wiped the moisture from his eyes. Kitty bustled in, carrying a tray and the keys to his cell door.

"Hiya handsome, how're doin'?"

"I'm okay, honey."

She could tell from his shaky voice that she had interrupted an emotional moment. Pretending not to notice the wetness of his face, she unlocked the door, and walked in, setting the tray on the chair.

"Roast beef, mashed potatoes, green beans, and horseradish."

He looked up at her. "There's been a sudden run on roast beef lately, as if every meal was about to be my last." He regretted the comment as soon as it left his tongue, but the wilted look on Kitty's face landed solidly in his stomach. "Kitty, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that... I know all of you are just trying to take good care of me." He looked at his shoes. "I guess I'm too tired to be anything less than a cranky old man."

She recovered fairly quickly. "It's all right, Doc, this has been tough on all of us, but especially you. It's bound to come out somehow."

He held out his hand to her, and she clasped it. "But you're the last person I wanna take this out on, honey."

"I know that." She allowed him to pull her next to him on the cot, and when he didn't reach for the tray of food, she reached over him and put it on his lap. "Come on, you've got to eat."

Doc stared down at the food and felt his stomach turn. "I'm really not hungry." He felt her fingers gently tugging the curls on the back of his head, and he smiled, changing the subject. "I need a haircut don't I?"

She ruffled his hair with her hand. "Yeah, a little. I haven't seen curls like this on you for almost ten years..."

"Maybe you can get a barber over here tomorrow morning then."

She giggled mischievously. "Or maybe I can just borrow his scissors..."

"Oh no ya don't...you ain't cuttin' my hair. I remember the last time you tried that; I came out lookin' like a shaved sheep!"

She playfully swatted his shoulder. "Oh you did not, ya liar!" He smiled at her, and she pointed at the tray. "Come on, that food's gettin' cold."

Kitty watched him eat a few bites and then set the tray on the chair. "I'm sorry honey, that's all I can manage right now."

"Well, it was better than nothing. I'll just leave it here in case you decide you want a little more later..."

She stood to leave, but he grabbed her hand, hard. When Kitty looked down at him, his pale eyes were filled with a helplessness that she had never seen in them, and it made her heart skip a beat. For a long moment, they held each other with a long-shared regard, each hearing what the other could not voice. Kitty caressed the side of his face with her hand, and then wordlessly sat back down on the bunk, pulling him into her arms.

Her voice was like soft velvet, "I want you to try and sleep now, handsome."

His deep voice was a whisper, "Don't know if I can..."

Gently Kitty moved to sit on one end of the bunk, allowing him to stretch out, cradling his head in her lap. "I'll be right here with you, now close your eyes."

Concentrating on the gentle hands brushing through his thick hair, Doc finally fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.


	22. Chapter 22

"So that we understand you, Miss Bradley, did you at any time tell Doc Adams that your father was sick and needed his help?"

"Dr. Adams made it very clear that night in Delmonico's that he wouldn't lift a finger to help my father if he were dying at his feet, so consequently, Dr. Adams would be the last person I would go to."

Matt leaned over to Kitty. "She didn't really answer the question..."

"Why didn't McClennan object?"

Dillon shrugged, and the two of them returned their attention to the testimony.

"Very well, Miss Bradley. Now tell me about the night Doc Adams came to the Dodge House."

"My father was very tired, and was resting, I was reading in a chair by the window. There was a knock on the door, and when I answered it, Dr. Adams pushed past me, a gun in his hand."

Festus couldn't stand it. "That's a pure-ol-dee lie. Doc didn't even have a gun. I took it from him after the shabble-de-wompus at Delmonico's--"

Haggen stopped short, realizing he shouldn't have mentioned the gun. Judge Dalton glared at him.

"Any particular reason you took his gun from him, Mr. Haggen?" Judge Dalton asked.

"Well I...I jes' didn't think he should have it is all..."

"Uh-huh. I think we can all imagine why..."

Kitty grabbed Haggen's hand and pulled him down into his seat, shaking her head. Matt glared in Haggen's direction, and Festus felt his stomach fly into his throat.

"If you interrupt these proceedings again, Mr. Haggen, I will find you in contempt."

"Yessum."

"Continue, Miss Bradley."

"Dr. Adams came into the room with a gun, and he'd been drinking--"

"--How do you know that, Miss Bradley?"

"Why I could smell it on his breath, Mr. Beeman. He was drunk. And he told my father that he would pay."

"Did he say what he wanted your father to pay for?"

"No. It was something between them a long time ago, before I was born."

"A grudge?"

"Yes, that was my understanding."

"Very well. What happened next?"

"My father stood and told Dr. Adams that he had had too much to drink and that he should put the gun down, and they could discuss matters. Dr. Adams told him that he was just taking up space and deserved to die. Then he took a shot at my father, but he missed."

"How close was he?"

"I don't know, about ten feet, I guess."

"He missed at ten feet?"

"He was almost falling down drunk, so yes, he missed."

Kitty leaned into Matt's ear. "She's making this up as she goes along."

"Yes, but look at the jury, they're eating it up."

Kitty glanced over at the twelve men sitting in the juror's area, and they were raptly listening to every lie the woman was telling. Beeman's voice pulled her attention back to the testimony.

"What happened then?"

"My father ran out of the room, trying to get out before Dr. Adams killed him, but the doctor just followed him out onto the landing at the Dodge House."

"What did you do then?"

"I ran out there with them. They got into a struggle for the gun, and I tried to break it up, but there was nothing I could do. Dr. Adams came up with it, and shot my father in cold blood. He tumbled down the stairs, dead."

Ruth Bradley broke down in tears, and Beeman comforted her quietly for a moment. Then he spoke once again to the court.

"Miss Bradley, did your father ever tell you about the grudge between himself and Dr. Adams?"

"No, my father never told me."

Kitty leaned into Matt once again. "Her father might not have, but we certainly did. I can't wait until McClennan calls you as a character witness, you can straighten some of this out..."

Beeman's voice continued, "Miss Bradley: the version you tell of that night in the Dodge House is vastly different from that of Dr. Adams. How do you account for this?"

"Any man who can kill in cold blood can certainly lie about it, Mr. Beeman."

Beeman turned to the judge. "That's all I have for this witness, your honor."

Dalton looked at McClennan. "Your witness, counsel."

"Miss Bradley, you say that Doc Adams was falling down drunk when he came to your room, yet the hotel clerk, Howie Culver, failed to mention that fact in his testimony. Could it be that Dr. Adams was not drunk?"

"I can't help it if the clerk didn't notice, or is a friend of the accused."

Howie stood up. "Are you callin' me a liar? I ain't no liar! Doc didn't look drunk to me!"

"Sit down, Mr. Culver, or I'll have you removed."

"Yes judge."

"Miss Bradley, you also stated in your testimony that you have no idea what the grudge between your father and Dr. Adams was...but in fact, both Kitty Russell and Matt Dillon discussed it with you, isn't that true?"

"Mr. Beeman asked me if my father ever discussed it with me; he did not. Whatever the marshall and his woman might have said about it, I can't know as fact; their information comes from Dr. Adams, and I believe they'd say or do anything to save him."

"Sort of like you about your father's reputation."

"Objection!"

"Sustained. Mr. McClennan, do not make disparaging remarks regarding the character of the witness. She is not on trial here, your client is."

"Yes, your honor." He turned back to Ruth Bradley. "You said that there was a fight for control of the gun on the landing. If Doc Adams was so drunk, how did he gain control of the six gun?"

"He's a much younger and stronger man than my father was, even inebriated he's stronger."

"I see. Had your father been drinking that night, Miss Bradley?"

"Certainly not. My father never took a drink."

"Never?"

"Not in my memory, no."

"What about 27 years ago in Easton, Miss Bradley?"

"Objection. The witness is 25 years old, how can she be expected to answer questions about events that took place two years prior to her birth?"

"Sustained. Mr. McClennan, stick to the facts of this case, and not anything else please."

"Your honor, it was the prosecution that brought in the events of 27 years ago, building a motive around it for murder. I must be allowed a chance to probe these facts or my client's right to a fair trial is being violated."

Dalton sighed, but nodded. "Very well, Mr. McClennan, proceed."

"Miss Bradley, are you _now_ aware of what transpired between your father and Dr. Adams back in 1853?"

"I know what Kitty Russell and Marshall Dillon told me, yes."

"And are you aware that your father was tried by a jury for negligence due to--"

"Objection! Your honor, neither Miss Bradley, _nor_ her father are on trial here. Mr. McClennan is trying to besmirch the good name of a doctor who was highly respected back east, merely to make his client seem less than the cold-blooded killer that he is."

Kitty started to stand to yell at them all, but Matt held onto her tightly. "Kitty, I know how you feel, but we both know that an outburst isn't gonna help Doc. Just calm down."

"Calling Doc a cold-blooded killer, that's just...disgusting."

Matt pulled her into him and held onto her while the drama before them continued to unfold.

Dalton looked at the defense counsel. "Mr. McClennan, Mr. Beeman, approach the bench." the judge leaned into the two men. "You two had better quit with the histrionics, or I'll fine both of you."

McClennan spoke up, "Your honor, the fact that Dr. Bradley was brought up on charges of negligence due to intoxication could well speak to the fact that it was he who was inebriated at the Dodge House, and not Doc Adams."

"That was 27 years ago, Mr. McClennan, hardly relevant now."

"But your honor, it does bring into question the testimony of his daughter--"

"--No, Mr. McClennan, it does not. You're reaching because this isn't going well for you. Back off or face contempt."

The two attorneys backed away from the bench and McClennan resumed.

"Miss Bradley, did you love your father?"

"Of course I did, what kind of question is that?"

"Would you have done anything for him?"

"Within reason, yes."

"What's within reason?"

"I would do anything that was within the law for him, yes."

"So you would not, for example, lie on the witness stand to protect his memory?"

"Of course not, and I resent the implication."

"Why were you traveling out west?"

"My father...my father was ill, and California seemed like a milder climate for him to live in."

"Isn't it truer to say that he was dying, Miss Bradley?"

Tears formed in her eyes, but she forced herself to answer. "Yes, he was dying."

"What was he dying from?"

"I...I don't know. He was just dying."

"You don't know, Miss Bradley, or you don't want to tell us?"

Ruth Bradley began weeping. "He was very sick...isn't that enough for you?"

"Isn't it true that he was suffering from some kind of liver malady because of all his years of heavy drinking?"

"No! No, my father was a great man...he was...a great man..." Ruth Bradley dissolved into a ball of sobs.

And Doc Adams abruptly stood, slamming his hands on the table. "I can't take this! That's enough, Tom! Can't you see the poor girl is overwrought? Now back off of her, or you're through as my attorney."

For a moment, everyone in the courtroom was dazed, then Judge Dalton recovered.

"Dr. Adams, please sit down."

"I'm sorry judge, but I'm not gonna just sit by while a young girl is publicly destroyed. Her father is already dead, ain't that enough?"

McClennan walked over to Adams. "Doc, sit down and be quiet."

"I'll do no such thing. As a matter of fact Tom, you are through." He turned to face Dalton. "Judge I'm firing my attorney Tom McClennan."

"In favor of whom?"

Doc pulled down on his right ear, thinking. "Well, I'll just represent myself, your honor."

"Let me remind you, sir, that your life is at stake. You should have a studied attorney at law representing you."

"I understand that, judge, but I'm not willing to see a young girl put through this kind of a circus, and what's more, I think this entire proceeding has just been shameful. Diggin' up what people did or didn't do almost thirty years ago don't change what happened. I'm just gonna tell what I know, and the jury can decide what's what."

Doc walked over to Ruth Bradley and gently guided her down from the witness chair, and walked her over to the gallery, sitting her in a chair. He knelt down next to her for a moment, checking her pulse, and softly wiping away her tears.

"Do you need anything to help calm you down, Miss Bradley?"

"No, I'm fine." She stared into the concerned steel blue eyes. "I guess it's true that help sometimes comes from unexpected places..."

"Sometimes." Doc stood and walked back toward the bench, facing the jury. "I don't think that we can question how much Ruth Bradley loved her father. And with that kind of love comes the willingness to protect and keep close the object of that love." His eyes landed on Kitty as hers filled with tears; he held her gaze for a moment, then looked to the jury. "It also needs to be said that the past belongs to the past; talkin' about it don't change it, and sometimes it just reminds us of how much we've missed in this life. It's true that I threatened Aaron Bradley at Delmonico's. It's also true that I said I wouldn't lift a finger to help him if he were dying at my feet; however, when the time came, neither statement proved to be in my character." His eyes connected with Matt's, and the marshall swallowed hard as Doc continued. "I took an oath you see; an oath as a doctor that says I must not play God. That means that I sit in judgment of no man who needs my help, and freely give help to any man who requires it. That belief included Dr. Aaron Bradley. Whatever else I may be, I am first and foremost in my life, a doctor." He looked at the jury. "But I am also a man, with a man's feelings, failings and a man's pain."

Doc looked down, trying to keep a lid on his emotions. "What happened between me and Aaron Bradley 27 years ago doesn't have a damned thing to do with this case." He looked back up, his gaze lighting on Festus. "While it was the reason that I felt such intense anger, in the end, whether because of those dearest to me, or just from within, I could no more act on that anger than I could bear seeing Ruth Bradley taken apart in this court of law." Doc stared at the jury. "Was I angry enough to kill Aaron Bradley? As a man, yes. But when Ruth Bradley came to me that night, telling me her father was ill and needed a doctor, that was all I heard. It didn't matter who he was. When I arrived at the Dodge House, Dr. Bradley was waiting for me with a gun. He had been drinking, and I couldn't reason with him. He fired off a shot, but missed. I lunged at him, got the gun, and yes, for a brief moment I thought about retribution for what he had cost me all those years ago. But in the end, I couldn't do it. Maybe I just couldn't cause the same kind of torment to Ruth Bradley that had been dealt to me, but either way, I walked out.

"Dr. Bradley shoved me from behind on the landing, and I dropped the gun. He picked it up, and we fought over it for a few minutes. During that scuffle, the pistol went off, hitting him in the chest. He fell backward and down the stairs of the main lobby of the Dodge House. It was then that Marshall Dillon came in seeing Bradley dead, and me with a smoking gun in my hand." He looked once more at Ruth Bradley. "I'm not sure why Miss Bradley insists on telling a story other than what happened that night, except that I imagine she's trying to protect the memory of the man she loved more than any other. While I wish it weren't so, I can't say that I don't understand her motives."

Doc turned to face the jury. "Gentlemen, I swear on everything that I hold right and dear that I have told you the truth. As a matter of fact, there ain't nothin' more to be said." He turned to Judge Dalton. "Judge, the defense is at rest."

Dalton couldn't speak for a moment, and when he finally did, his voice was soft. "You could call a few character witnesses if you want, Dr. Adams, I believe your attorney had planned to do so."

"Yes, I could, your honor. But I don't see how imposing further on those dearest to me will in any way shed further light on the truth in this case. I'm a simple country doctor, your honor, I'm sure that's been made plain."

Dalton stared at Adams with unbidden respect. "A country doctor you might be, but simple you are not. You may return to your seat, Dr. Adams." As Doc walked back to his chair, the judge continued. "Gentlemen of the jury, you will retire to chambers and come to a verdict. Bear in mind that in this case, a judgment of guilty will render a hanging, so consider carefully all that you have seen and heard. This court will reconvene when the jury has reached a conclusion."

The judge banged his gavel on the bench, and for a long moment, no one moved, most still transfixed by what they had heard. Slowly, the crowd began to dissipate from the courtroom until only a few remained. Festus put a strong hand on Doc's shoulder, squeezing it tightly, but he was too choked up to speak. After a moment, he turned and walked out of the room, fighting to keep the tears in his eyes from falling. Matt pat Doc's arm.

"If you're ever tired of doctorin' you could always have a second career as a defense attorney."

"Think so, do ya?"

Matt smiled at him. "You bet." He looked at Kitty. "I'm going to see if Festus is all right, he looked a little shaken up. I'll wait for you two out there."

Kitty nodded and Matt walked out of the room. She sat in the chair next to him, staring at the judge's bench in front of her.

"You sure know how to get to a girl, handsome."

"Do I?"

"Uh-huh."

"Think I got to Ruth Bradley at all?"

"I don't know that anyone can, Doc."

"True enough, Kitty."

She reached for his hand, and he gently clasped hers inside his larger one. "Doc, I'm scared."

He waited for her to look at him and he smiled. "Me too, honey."

"Sheriff Taber's set a table for the four of us to have something to eat over at the jailhouse. I know you're probably not too hungry, but it's important to me that we're all together."

Doc felt the moisture sting his eyes, and he cleared his throat. "It's important to me too, honey." He stood then, holding out his arm. "Allow an old doctor to escort a beautiful, young lady?"

She grabbed his arm and kissed his cheek. "If that old doctor didn't, there'd be hell to pay!"


	23. Chapter 23

Matt couldn't keep his stomach from flip-flopping. The jury had barely been out for two hours when they came back with a verdict. Such a quick decision didn't bode well for Doc Adams, and Dillon wanted nothing more than to grab Doc and bolt from the courtroom. They waited while the jury silently filtered in, followed by the judge who sat down on his bench.

Dalton's voice was calm, steady, "Gentlemen of the jury, you have reached a verdict?"

The foreman, a large man with the hands of a farmer stood. "Yes your honor, we come to a decision."

"Very well, state it for the court please."

"We done found the man known as Dr. Galen Adams to be guilty of the murder of Dr. Aaron Bradley."

Kitty covered her mouth with her hand to keep the scream that tried to come from her throat silent. She buried her face into Matt's chest, and he wrapped his arms around her, his own eyes tearing up quicker than he could blink them away. Festus stood, his eyes full of moisture, and his voice full of anger.

"No! You've done made a mistake! Doc wouldn't kill nobody... do ya hear me? He wouldn't never hurt nobody..."

"Mr. Haggen, that's enough--"

"--No it ain't. Doc didn't do nothin'..."

Adams looked sadly at his dear friend, and then had to look away, afraid that his emotions would get the best of him if he didn't.

"Bailiff, restrain that man."

The bailiff walked over to restrain Festus, and the deputy struggled with him. Matt stood, taking a hold of Festus as best he could.

"Festus, listen to me, you've got to calm down. This isn't helping Doc."

"But Matthew," Festus cried, "we cain't let 'em do nuthin', we cain't..."

"Take it easy." Matt nodded to the bailiff who let go, and Dillon gently sat Haggen in his chair. "Think of Doc right now, you're not makin' this any easier on him."

Festus looked over at the old man who looked shaken to the core, and he swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, Matthew." He looked up at the judge. "I'm sorry yer honor. It's jes' that, well, I'm sorta...I'm sorta emotional about ol' Doc."

"Very well Mr. Haggen." Dalton sadly looked down at Doc Adams. "Will the defendant please stand for sentencing..." Doc stood and Dalton looked down at his desk. "For as much as I find myself believing in what Dr. Adams said, a jury of his peers has found him guilty of murder. I am left with no choice but to sentence you, Galen Adams, to hang by the neck until dead. The sentence will be carried out at ten o'clock tonight on the gallows behind the courthouse. This court is adjourned."

Judge Dalton lowered his gavel softly to the bench, and Doc Adams silently lowered his head.


	24. Chapter 24

Matt and Festus walked into the Hays City jailhouse as they had done many times before. Sheriff Tom Taber was standing near the stove, pouring a mug of coffee.

"Hi fellas...here to see Doc?"

Dillon moved swiftly to take Taber's gun from its holster, while Festus relieved him of the hot coffee pot. Matt pointed his gun at Taber, moving him toward the door leading to the cells.

"Matt...what the hell are you doing?"

"Sorry Tom, but there's no other way. Get the keys."

Taber picked up the keys from their peg as Matt herded him toward the door. "Don't do it, Matt. You're throwing away your entire life, a brilliant career...why?"

"Because that man in there didn't kill anybody; he's saved hundreds of lives, mine included, and I'll be damned if I let him hang."

"But Matt--"

"--Shet yer trap, Sheriff," Festus added, "our minds is done made up, so jes' keep a-movin' and ain't nothin' gonna happen to ya."

Doc looked up to see the door open, Taber enter with keys followed by Festus and Matt holding guns.

"Matt what in the tarnation do you think you're doin'?"

"What I have to, Doc. Open the door, Tom."

Taber unlocked the Doc's door, and Festus shoved him inside the other cell, locking it with the keys.

Taber's voice stayed calm, "They'll chase you down, Matt, you know that."

"They can try." He looked at Adams, whose face touted disapproval. "Come on, Doc, this is no time to dawdle."

Adams pointed to the piece of tin on Dillon's shirt. "And what about that? What about that badge that you've worn since I've known ya? Ya sayin' it don't mean a thing now? All those years of bein' dedicated to the law, and you're gonna just throw it all away?"

Matt's eyes were a mix of anger and love. "I'm making a choice between the law and the life of someone who means more to me than this badge." Dillon pulled the badge off his shirt and threw it on Doc's cot. "Now come on."

"No."

"No?"

"You heard me, Matt, no. I won't let you do this."

"You won't _let_ me do this? Doc, in case you missed it, they're gonna hang you in a few hours. If we don't get outta here now, we never will."

Festus grabbed a hold of Adams' shirt. "Come on, ya blamed ol' scudder, this ain't no time to git a-lecturizin' on nobody."

Doc gripped Haggen's hand with his own, and Festus was surprised by the strength of it. "I said no, Festus, and I meant it. I ain't lettin' the two of you give up your lives on account of me, and there's nothin' more to say about it. Now quit actin' like fools, let the sheriff outta that cell, give him back his gun, and I'm sure he'll forgive and forget, won't you sheriff?"

"Sure. Sure I will. Matt listen to him, he's talkin' sense."

The tall lawman began to pace. "I can't believe this, Doc. We came in here to bust you out, and you're puttin' a stop to your own jailbreak?" Adams appeared to be unmoved, so Dillon tried another tact. "Listen, if you won't leave for yourself, then do it for Kitty, Festus and me."

"'Specially Miss Kitty, Doc, she ain't stopped cryin' since we left the courthouse."

Doc looked down at the floor and swallowed hard. "I'm not going to let the two of you do this, now stop this foolishness, and come to your senses."

"Ain'tcha heared me, Doc? Miss Kitty's cryin' herself silly over you..."

"I heard you, Festus." He looked up at the big marshall. "Matt, I don't wantcha to do this." He gently reached for the pistol in Dillon's hand. "Now give me the gun, Matt, and sit down here for a minute."

Dillon allowed Doc to take his gun, and he sat down on the bunk. Doc stood next to him, his hand on the marshall's shoulder.

"I know how ya feel, and I can't tell ya how much it means to me that you and Festus were willing to give up everything to save my neck; but if you love me, Matt, you'll stop this before anyone else gets hurt."

Matt looked up into the pale blue eyes, and Doc nodded at him. And Matt Dillon leaned his elbows down on his knees, put his head in his hands and cried. Doc softly stroked the back of Matt's head with his hand.

"It's all right ol' boy, it's all right."

Doc looked up then to see Festus leaning against the cell doors, his gun back in his holster, silent tears streaming down his face. After softly patting Matt's shoulder, he walked over to Haggen.

"Festus? Now come on and look me in the eye." After a minute, Haggen turned his tearstained face toward the old doctor. "That's better. You heard what I told Matt..." Festus nodded, and Doc continued, "the same holds true for you."

Haggen's voice was soft and sad, "If'n I could take yer place Doc, I'd do it in a heartbeat 'cause I cain't stand the thought of you swingin' from the end of no rope..."

Festus looked away, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks.

"Here now," Doc turned Haggen's face toward him and wiped away the moisture. "I've never seen so much bellyachin' from grown men in all my life, and I can't say I like it, no sir."

"Well nobody asked ya ta like it, ya ol' billy goat."

Doc cuffed the back of Haggen's head, and pulled him close. "I want to ask a favor of you, Festus, and I want you to go along with it, no arguments."

"Doc?"

"I want you to take Kitty and head back to Dodge."

"Now?"

"Yes, now."

"But Doc--"

"--No arguments ya ol' mule. Just do this one little favor for me, all right?"

Festus couldn't keep the emotion from his timbre, "Ya don't want us 'round no more?"

Doc put both hands on Haggen's shoulders. "Festus, I can't bear to have you and Kitty there. Try and understand that."

"And Matthew?"

Doc lied. "He has to be there to witness it, you and Kitty don't. Now go on."

"She'll want to see you afore we leave..."

"I know that..."

"Wull?"

"I can't deny her that..."

Doc watched Festus leave, never having seen the deputy so low in spirit. Matt stood.

"What was all that about?"

"Matt, lookin' at the two of them'll have me ballin' like some kinda baby. But I know that if you're there, you'll help me stay strong."

Dillon looked deeply into the eyes of steel blue, and he pat Doc's shoulder. "Sure hope you're right..."

Matt stepped out, locked the door, and unlocked the cell holding Sheriff Taber. "I'm sorry Tom, I hope you can forgive me."

"Forgive you for what? Nothin' happened..."

Taber left the room, and Doc picked up Matt's badge.

"Hey, Marshall, you'll need this..."

Adams handed Dillon his badge through the bars, and Matt pinned it back onto his shirt, then he looked at Adams.

"You're sure it has to be this way, Doc?"

"I'm sure, Matt. But it meant an awful lot to me to see the two of you try."

"If you need something..."

"I'll letcha know if I do. And Matt...you take care of Festus and Kitty fer me. I'm a little worried about both of them in all of this."

Matt mustered his best smile for Adams. "You're the doggonest old man, you know that?"

Doc's smile matched Dillon's. "You bet."

Matt Dillon left the room, closing the door behind him, and Doc Adams sat on his bunk, shaking from a cold fear he had never known.


	25. Chapter 25

The knock on his hotel room door wasn't a total surprise, but Judge Dalton had hoped that the plea for Doc Adams' life would have come at an earlier hour. Still, he knew that Matt Dillon would try. He got up from his bed as the knocker became more insistent.

"Hold on to your horses, I'm comin'..."

He threw his robe on over his nightshirt, and opened the door, the shock on his face apparent.

Dalton's voice was low, "This is certainly a surprise..."

"May I have a moment, Judge Dalton?"

"Yes, I expect that you can..."

* * *

She hadn't wanted to break down; she hadn't wanted to do that to him, but Kitty Russell could not stop the sobs that continued to have their way with her. She clung to him as though she would never let go, the front of Doc's shirt completely wet from her tears. He patiently held her, rocking her gently, rubbing the back of her head. 

"Shhhh, just calm down, Kitty. Take a deep breath for me, baby." She tried to take a slow breath, and he pat her back. "...that's it. There's my girl." Doc kissed the side of her head, and held her tightly to him. "Are you gonna let me talk to you fer awhile, hmmm?"

She nodded her head against him, and very gently, he pushed away from her slightly so he could see her face. He smiled sweetly at her, brushed her hair back, and then the tears from her cheeks.

"That's better."

Her voice was shaky, but she fought with all her might to keep from crying again. "Please don't send me away, Doc. _Please_..."

"I'm not sending you away, honey, it's just that I'm not a strong enough man to stand up there and see you watchin' the whole thing. I think that would hurt me more than the hangin' itself."

"Why didn't you let Festus and Matt take you outta here?"

"And ruin all of your lives for my own sake? You know better than that..."

She looked down. "I suppose I do." She looked into his eyes then. "But you'd be alive, Doc, and even if I never saw you again, I could live with knowin' you were free."

"But I wouldn't be free, honey. And neither would Matt or Festus...or for that matter, you."

"Matt's gonna stay with you?"

He nodded. "Matt's gonna be with me."

"You promise you're not gonna send him away at the last minute too?"

"You think I'd do that?"

"You might...and I don't want you to be alone."

"I promise you." He stood, pulling her up with him. "Come on, it's time for you and Festus to be on your way." He yelled toward the door, "Festus, come and unlock this door." He turned once more to Kitty, holding her close. "You remember, Kathleen Russell, that I love you." He pulled the tintype from his pocket where it had been since he put it there and he handed it to her. "I want you to have this; it should stay with my family."

Kitty's eyes rushed with tears, as she gently took the picture. Festus unlocked the cell then, and he put his hands on either side of Kitty's face.

"Don't you forget what I've told you."

"I couldn't, anymore than I could ever forget you."

He kissed her lightly on the lips, and hugged her once more. As he pushed her away, she reached into his vest pocket and pulled out his wedding band. Without a word she slid it onto his finger, and a moment of silent understanding passed between them.

She stroked the side of his face. "So long, handsome. I sure do love you."

As the anguish in her heart rushed her once again, she ran from the room. Festus looked down at the floor.

"I guess this is fare-thee-well for now, Doc."

He held out his hand to shake Doc's and the old man grabbed it, pulling the deputy into a hug. He whispered into his ear, "When you catch that 50-pounder ol' boy, you'll know it was me totin' the line with ya..."

Festus clutched the back of the old man's shirt in his hands, sobbing into his shoulder. "Oh Doc, I don't know whut I'm gonna do..."

Adams pat Haggen's back and pushed him away. "You've got a job to do, Festus. Kitty's gonna need a little extra attention from both you and Matt fer awhile."

Haggen eyed the wedding band he had seen Kitty put on Adams' finger. "Doc?"

"What is it, ol' boy?"

"Why'd Miss Kitty put that on yer fanger?"

"Because she knows it belongs there, Festus."

"You mean cuz ya'd rather hang than tarnish their mem'ry?"

Adams looked deeply at Festus. "You're a lot more intuitive than people give ya credit for, ya know that?"

Knowing that there was only one way he could leave him, Haggen mustered a glare. "I ain't intuivivey nor no other such a-thang, ya dang billy goat. Ya always got to be callin' people names." Festus started toward the door as his tirade continued, "Ya cain't never be nice to no folks cuz yer jes' plain ol' ornery, that's whatcha are ya know, and if'n I had me a dollar fer every time you said somethin' like that, I'da bought me a little lot a land a long dang time ago..."

Haggen's voice faded away as he closed the door behind him, leaving Doc with only his tears of gratitude and love.


	26. Chapter 26

Doc shivered as the time grew short. He glanced out of the small window of the jail cell, and saw the fresh snowflakes falling gracefully down from the darkened heavens. And he wondered if he had done enough good in his life to warrant entrance into that sacred of all places. Had the good outweighed the bad? He honestly didn't know, or couldn't remember. Or perhaps he didn't want to remember. Doc pulled his feet up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his knees. He was cold, but he didn't want to call for another blanket; he didn't feel like talking to anyone. He twisted the gold band around his ring finger, an old habit from years past, and he closed his eyes. He could still picture her as clearly as if he had seen her yesterday, his Maggie. And he was still as much in love with her as the first day he'd ever laid eyes on her.

It occurred to him then, that if he was lucky, he might just see her again before the night was over, and a small smile curled his lips. But it lasted only a moment as another redhead very dear to him came into his mind. The anguish in Kitty's eyes was still fresh, and the fact that she still needed him, stung like an open wound. He knew the misery of loss well, and could feel only regret at being the cause of it for the people of Dodge who had become his family.

The hand shaking his shoulder caused him to jump, for he hadn't heard the man come in.

"Easy, Doc. You all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Dillon's eyes showed concern. "You're shaking like a leaf...here..." Matt put a blanket around Doc's shoulders. "The temperature has dropped a good twenty degrees outside, it's snowin' again."

"Yeah."

Matt knelt next to Adams. "It's about that time, Doc."

The old man nodded. "I know." He allowed Matt to pull him up to his feet, and followed the marshall out into the office. Doc then patiently let his dear friend put his coat, scarf and gloves on him, followed by his hat. "It seems a little silly to dress a man up with this many clothes on the way to his own hangin'..."

Matt tried to keep his voice even. "It's cold outside, and it's a little bit of a walk."

As Dillon started to put on his own coat and gloves, Doc noticed his shaking hands. He placed one of his hands over Dillon's, halting the tremor. "Matt? You okay?"

Dillon couldn't look at Adams. "I don't know, Doc. I feel kinda sick inside."

Doc pulled a glove off his own hand and placed it on Dillon's forehead. "No fever... Your belly hurtin' ya?"

"It feels tight like it's in knots."

Doc nodded, and pat the marshall on the back. "It's just nerves, Matt. You'll be fine in a little while."

Matt grabbed Doc's arm. "No I won't, Doc."

He pat Dillon's back again. "Yes you will, Matt. I promise you, ya will." Doc looked around the office then. "Where's Taber?"

"He's lettin' us walk over there alone."

"After that stunt you pulled earlier? Man's got a nut loose..."

"Or a big heart..."

"We've already been through this, Matt."

Dillon took a deep breath. "It's just so damned hard, Doc."

"I know that." When Dillon was dressed and heading for the door, Doc stopped him. "Matt, if this is too much for you, I'll understand."

A knowing smile lit his lips. "Kitty said you'd try this..."

"She did, did she?"

"Yeah. I'm in this with you, Doc, all the way. If you need me to, I'll walk up the stairs with you."

"And if the court would letcha, you'd take the noose for me too. I know that." He cleared the lump from his throat. "Tom McClennan has my will, you two can take care of that when you get back to Dodge. And Matt, don't let them bury me here." The steely blue eyes locked with the electric blue ones. "When it's over, I wanna go home." And Doc's façade of strength finally cracked with his voice. "Please take me back to Dodge..."

"I promise you, Doc, I'll take you home."

Matt put his arm around Adams, and together they walked out of the jailhouse, and started up the street in the snow. It was the last walk they would take side by side, but Doc took comfort in Matt's strong presence.


	27. Chapter 27

Judge Dalton impatiently paced in front of the telegraph key. He looked at the clock on the wall: 9:46. He leaned on the desk.

"What is taking so damned long?"

"Lines are a little slow tonight, judge, the snow and all..."

"Need I remind you that a man's life is on the line?"

"No sir. You've already made that plain enough."

"Good. Then move it along."

Her voice was small, sad, "I should have come to you sooner."

Dalton's nostrils flared in anger. "You should never have perjured yourself in my courtroom, young lady." He let out a sigh of air to calm down. "But the truth is always better late than never."

Ruth Bradley looked into his dark eyes. "I don't understand why you can't just go over there and stop it yourself. It was your sentence after all..."

"Yes it was, but once I adjourn the court it becomes a matter of appeal, and I cannot repeal my own judgment. Not without a stay of execution from the Governor."

"What if it doesn't come through in time?"

He looked at her gravely. "Then an innocent man is going to die."

"That's insane. If you know he's innocent, why can't you just go there and stop it?"

"Because it's not within the law, Miss Bradley. It's the same reason Marshall Dillon won't do anything to stop it, even though he said all along that Dr. Adams wasn't guilty. We follow the law because it's all we have to keep order. Even if sometimes it doesn't work all that well, it works right more often than it does wrong."

"That isn't any excuse for killing an innocent man."

Dalton loomed in her face. "A man who's in this predicament because of you, Miss Bradley. Because of you."

Ruth Bradley sat down in a chair, and a moment later began to sob.


	28. Chapter 28

The two men turned the corner and walked through the wooden gate which blocked off the courtyard behind the courthouse. Doc felt his mouth go dry as the gallows towered before him. He'd seen them hundreds of times before, but this time, it was different; this time the snow-covered noose swinging in the wind was meant for him. His feet slowed in the snow, which by this time was covering the ground with some measure, and he couldn't make them move faster. Sensing the slackened pace, Dillon squeezed Adams' shoulder.

"Doc?"

The old man shook his head. "It's nothin' Matt. Just never looked at gallows in quite the same way before, that's all."

Dillon couldn't think of anything to say, so he remained quiet, and slowly the two men continued toward the large wooden platform. They stopped when the were about ten feet from the bottom of the stairs. Doc was relieved that it was snowing so hard, because he was pretty sure that was the reason there wasn't a crowd forming. It was just Sheriff Taber, his deputy, a preacher, Matt and the hangman. Doc extended his hand to Taber.

"Sheriff, thanks for your hospitality and your understanding."

The man shook Doc's hand. "I'm sorry it turned out this way for you, Dr. Adams, I truly am."

Doc faced Matt, who by some miracle had managed to remain calm, at least outwardly. He removed his gloves, hat and coat, and handed them to the marshall.

"Well Matt, this is the end of the line for us."

"It was a helluva ride, Doc."

"You bet it was." He extended his hand, and Matt shook it. "Don't forget me, Matt."

"I couldn't, Doc."

"So long, Matthew."

Tears stung the marshall's eyes, but he kept them from falling. "So long, Galen."

Dillon kept a tight lid on his emotions as Doc walked up the stairs toward the noose. When he reached the top step, Adams and the preacher exchanged a few words, but Matt couldn't hear what they said. Doc shook the man's hand, and the preacher walked down the steps. Dillon gripped the clothes in his hands hard as he watched Adams shiver from the cold as the hangman offered him a hood. As he expected, Doc shook his head no, and the hangman slipped the noose around his neck. Matt made himself hold Doc's gaze, even though he thought at any moment he was going to become violently ill. The pale blue eyes stared gratefully into Dillon's electric blue, and Matt understood in that moment how much love Doc Adams had for him; and it was then that he almost lost it, but still he maintained the contact, giving the strength that he knew was needed.

Doc felt himself shiver from the cold, and when the hangman put the snow-covered noose on him, he shuddered.

The hangman's gentle burr soothed him slightly, "Steady, fella, it'll be over in a minute."

The hangman gently drew Doc's hands behind him, binding them with a rope. He saw the wedding ring.

"You want me to give this ring to that marshall over there?"

"What do you mean?"

"If they take ya over ta the undertaker's with it on, lad, you'll not be keepin' it."

"I'm not bein' buried here. The marshall's takin' me back to Dodge with him."

"You have anythin' ya want ta say, lad?"

"Nope. I've already said it all."

"All right then. Here's hopin' that St. Peter's angels meetcha along the way..."

And the hangman reached for the lever...


	29. Chapter 29

Matt heard the pounding of someone trying to sprint in the snow, before he saw Judge Dalton running like a madman toward them. He was yelling, but Dillon couldn't make out what he was saying. Then he felt the gear of the hangman's lever shifting into motion, and his head snapped back toward the gallows platform, and he landed a final look into the steely blue eyes that had been a part of his life for so long. But Dalton was yelling frantically, and Dillon turned once more toward him. The judge was waving a paper over his head, and screaming.

Then Matt heard the words. "Stop! I have a stay of execution! Stop!"

Taber started for the platform, but Dillon knew it was too late for that, the lever had been thrown, and Doc was swinging by his neck from the rope. Matt drew his gun as he had so many times before when lives were on the line, only this time, it was a life that meant more to Dillon than his own. He aimed for the upper part of the rope, and pulling the hammer back manually with his left hand, fired rapidly until the rope frayed and Doc Adams dropped through the trap door to the ground. As Matt ran toward the platform, the hangman jumped down into the pit as did Taber. Dalton followed Dillon a moment later, into the belly of giant wooden crossbeams underneath the gallows. Matt shoved all of them clear, and pulled the noose from Doc's neck. He looked into Adams' ashen face, and his stomach pulled tight with fear.

"Doc?"

But Adams wasn't breathing. Dillon ripped open the shirt collar from his neck, where swelling from the rope had begun, and he gently rubbed the old man's chest.

"Doc? Come on, Doc! Don't you dare give up now... Doc!"

Dalton pat the marshall's arm. "I'm sorry Matt, we were too late."

"No!" He shook Doc's body in an effort to rouse him. "Please, Doc...not like this. Not this way."

And from somewhere within the depths of blackness, Adams heard him, for Doc coughed and sputtered, and finally drew a breath. He wasn't sure if he was alive or dead, only that his throat felt raw and he imagined that Matt Dillon was holding him. He clutched the front of Dillon's shirt with his hand, his voice barely a gravely whisper.

"Matt...take me home."

Dillon couldn't muster an answer, because his own throat was closed down with emotion, and a moment later his tear-filled eyes overflowed onto his cheeks. He took off his coat and wrapped Doc in it, lifted him into his arms, and wordlessly started to walk away.

Taber yelled after the marshall, "Matt...where are you going?"

Dillon turned, his voice reflecting the anger he felt. "Home, Tom. I'm takin' him home on the 10:30 stage. I'll send someone for the horses later."

"The stage run might stop due to the snow..."

"Then I'll take him on my horse, but either way, he's not spending another night here."

Taber picked up Doc's coat, gloves and hat, and ran to catch up with Dillon.

"Here Matt, you might need these."

Silently, Dillon took them, as he stood in the falling snow, cradling Doc in his arms, waiting for the stage.

Taber gently touched Dillon's arm. "He looks like he needs some medical attention..."

The marshall's voice was pure steel, "I'm takin' him home."

"But Matt--"

"--Tom, do you even realize what today is?"

"Today?"

"Yes, today."

Taber thought a moment, then looked at Dillon. "I plumb forgot Christmas Eve. It's Christmas Eve."

"Yes it is. And I'm gonna have him home in time for Christmas."

"Lemme at least get you some blankets from the office."

When he realized that Taber wasn't going to try and stop him, Dillon relaxed slightly. "That'd be fine, Tom."

As Taber ran off to fetch a few things he thought they might need, Dalton caught up with the marshall.

"You know the court isn't really through with him yet. We need to officially run the appeal, and record the new testimony: the stay of execution was only the first step."

Dillon nodded. "Ruth Bradley told you the truth."

"Yes."

"But why?"

"She said she couldn't live with his death on her conscience, but I think a lot of it had to do with the way he stood up for her in court, and what he said in his own defense. It got to her."

Dillon nodded. "How he said it told more about the man than anything else could have."

"I could order you to keep him here for a few days, until we've had a chance to set this right..."

Dillon shook his head. "You can order anything you want, Judge, but his family'll be mighty glad to see him, and I'm gonna make sure they do. It's the best Christmas present I can think of to give them."

"I thought he had no family."

Matt stared hard into Dalton's dark eyes. "He does in Dodge. And we love him a lot."

Dalton smiled. "Then I'll meet you in Dodge a few days after Christmas, and we'll put it to bed then."

"I'd appreciate it, Judge Dalton."

The judge nodded and slowly walked back to the Sheriff's Office, a slight grin touching his lips.

* * *

Matt carefully lifted Doc into the stagecoach, and then stepped in himself, sitting down next to his old friend. Tom Taber handed Dillon a few blankets, some food and water. He extended his hand.

"I'm glad it turned out this way, Matt."

Dillon shook the offered hand tightly. "So am I, Tom. Thanks for everything."

As the stagecoach pulled away, Dillon covered Adams with a couple of blankets, and checked the wounds on his neck. Doc had red welts all around his throat, and swelling where the rope had burned into his skin. Matt swallowed hard: it had been so close. Another minute. Just another minute, and he would have been gone. Doc moaned, and Matt gently leaned Adams into himself for support.

"Easy Doc, you're okay. We're on our way home."

"Matt?"

"Yeah. Don't try to talk, Doc, your throat's gotta hurt..."

"Feels like hell..."

"Then hush, will ya?"

His voice was barely a whisper, "Did you say we're goin' home?"

"Yeah. We'll be home in time for Christmas."

"Christmas?"

"Yeah, it's tomorrow. Guess we all kinda forgot about it..."

The old man's eyes flooded, and he tried to blink the moisture away. Concerned, Dillon put a hand on his forehead.

"Doc? What is it?"

"I didn't think I'd ever see another Christmas with all of you."

"Rest easy, Doc. Just close your eyes, and I'll have you home before you know it."

As Doc Adams floated off to sleep, Matt Dillon sent a silent prayer of thanks to the Almighty above, for he was certain that a string of carefully orchestrated miracles was the only reason Doc Adams was still breathing. And that fact served to renew the marshall's faith in justice itself.

* * *

It was just before daybreak when the stage rolled through the snow drifts of Dodge City. Front street was empty, and the sky a still, twilight blanket covering the earth. Dillon stepped out of the stage and took Doc's hands, carefully helping the old man down the steps and onto the soft powder overlaying the street. The air was cold, with snowflakes lazily drifting to the ground, and Dodge had the fresh smell of dawn approaching.

"You sure you wanna walk this, Doc?"

The old man nodded, a strange smile curving his lips. "Yeah, Matt, I'm sure."

Dillon pulled Doc's coat up higher around him, and the brim of his hat down a little lower, causing Adams to glare up at him. "Don't give me that look. You've been through a lot, and I probably shouldn't even let you walk out in this cold."

Adams swatted the marshall away, shoved his hands in his pockets, and started up the street toward the Longbranch. Dillon fell into step with him, a companionable silence between them. After a few minutes, Doc's scratchy voice interrupted the quiet.

"Think they'll be some coffee at the Longbranch?"

Dillon stopped walking and stared unbelievingly at the old doctor. "The Longbranch? Doc, you need to get up to your office and get into bed."

"Hah! No public servant's gonna prescribe to me; I need some coffee and some food. I can't remember the last time I had anything to eat."

Doc started walking again, and Dillon followed him. "If you're headed to the Longbranch, at least don't insult my intelligence by tellin' me it's for coffee and food!"

Adams glared at the younger man, and then his sour expression dissolved into an puckish smile. "All right, so it's for the whiskey. Whaddya think of that, Mr. Marshall?"

Dillon laughed. "I think you're still lyin' ya ol' turkey buzzard, but since it's Christmas mornin' I'm gonna give you your way."

"Yeah well, Merry Christmas to you too, ya smart-aleck!"

They reached the doors of the Longbranch just as Sam was opening them up. Noonan stared at the two men approaching and couldn't believe his eyes. He ran over to Doc, grabbing the man's shoulders.

"Doc! Doc, I can't even tell ya..." Sam's eyes watered and all he could do was pat Doc on the back.

Adams shook the bartender's hand. "Sam, it's good to see you." He looked at the tall man, a twinkle in his tired blue eyes. "Any coffee on?"

"You bet there is, Doc. Miss Kitty's gonna be over the moon when she sees you; I ain't never seen her so low as when Festus brought her back from Hays."

The three men walked into the saloon, and Doc felt his eyes sting as he looked around the familiar room. When he didn't move for a long moment, Dillon pat his shoulder.

"You okay, Doc?"

The old man shook his head slightly. "Just didn't ever think I'd stand here again."

Matt squeezed the shoulder under his hand. "Tell you what, I'll go get Kitty, and--"

"--No, no, Matt. I'd like to wake her if you don't mind."

"Today's your lucky day, doctor, because I'm probably gonna let you do anything you damned well please."

Doc smiled coyly. "I should come back from the dead everyday..."

"I'll thank you to keep your neck out of any more nooses. I don't think I could take it."

Doc chuckled as he headed up the stairs. He stood in front of her door, as nervous as the day he got married, and he stared down at the ring that was still on his left hand. While he could well imagine the anguish he put her through, he didn't know how to make it up to her. He removed the hat from his head and knocked softly on her door.

Kitty thought she heard a knock, but instead of answering, she rolled over, fresh tears soaking her pillowcase. When the knock became a little more insistent she felt anger flush her face.

"Sam, leave me alone. _Please_."

"Well, if you don't want yer Christmas present from that marshall you call yer sweetheart, I guess I'll have to go back to Hays City..."

Although something didn't seem quite right with his voice, Kitty's heart pounded upon hearing it. As truth dawned on her, she mouthed the one word she could no longer bear to say, "Doc." After another moment, she bounded from her bed, rushed the door and yanked it open. And there he stood. Tears flooded her eyes, and for the longest moment, they stared at each other.

"Don't I at least get a hug?"

Kitty threw her arms around him, pulling him closer than anyone else would ever dare. Her body shuddered with all the emotion that had been locked inside her heart since she and Festus had left Hays. Doc wrapped his arms around her waist, and softly rubbed her back.

"Here now, I think we've had enough tears to last a lifetime..."

But Kitty couldn't stop. She closed her arms even tighter around his shoulders, running her fingers through the overgrown curls on the back of his head.

His voice sounded stressed from the swelling, but soft, "Still need a haircut, don't I?"

Even as he gently pushed away from her to look into her face, Kitty didn't trust herself to speak. He wiped her tears away with his thumbs, and smiled gently at her.

"You gonna say anything to me, or have you forgotten who I am already?"

Her shaky voice sounded through her tears, "How...?"

He reached up and took one of her hands in his, and guided her to sit down on the bed. He sat next to her, softly caressing the top of her hand with his thumb.

"I won't lie to ya, it was pretty close. I had already started to swing, but Judge Dalton managed a stay of execution from the Governor, and Matt got to me just in time."

She gingerly reached to unbutton his coat. "Is that why you're so raspy?"

"'Fraid so."

Kitty inspected the damage and frowned. "Oh Doc, we need to clean this up; I'll bet that hurts like hell."

He smiled sweetly at her, his eyes twinkling. "Now that I'm sittin' here with you, Kitty, all I feel is the comfort of home. Which reminds me," he pulled the ring off his hand, giving it to her. "I want you to take this, and when that slow-thinkin' marshall comes to his senses, and you two get married and have kids, you give it to your first-born boy when he takes a wife. Merry Christmas, honey." He winked at her. "This is the same boy who will be named after me, ya know..."

Kitty's eyes flooded, and she reached her arms around him, drawing him close. Doc let her hold him until she pulled away, ruffling the unruly curls on top of his head with her hand. "Merry Christmas, handsome."

He kissed her softly, and took her hand, pulling her toward the door. "Come on, Sam's got the coffee on, and I'm starved..."

"Don't you men _ever_ think of anything but food?"

He stopped for a second, pretending to think about it, then smiled and said, "Nope."

Matt looked up to see Kitty and Doc walking down the staircase. She smiled down at him.

"This is one helluva Christmas present you brought me, cowboy."

Dillon grinned. "Yeah, I'll expect something in return, but we can discuss that later..."

Doc chuckled when he saw Kitty blushing. Adams stopped on the landing as a familiar sound reached his ears.

"Hey...do ya hear that?" They all listened, and could hear the jangling approaching. He smiled. "That's either Santa Claus or--"

And just then the batwing doors to the Longbranch pushed open, and Festus walked in, staring at a sight that stung his eyes with joy. After a moment's hesitation, Haggen ran to Doc, throwing his arms around the old man, who tried to swat him away.

"Oh Doc... glory be, Doc...you're such a looksome sight! I didn't thank I was never gonna see ya again..."

Adams swatted at Haggen as the deputy held him tightly. "Get...oh, get your mangy hands off of me! What's the matter with you, anyway?" Doc finally wriggled out of Haggen's grip, and he swatted him once more for good measure. "Ya tryin' to squeeze me ta death or somethin'? What in tarnation's wrong with you?"

The tears shining in Haggen's eyes were enough to shut Doc up, as the deputy softly spoke. "This here's the bestest Christmas I ever seen."

Doc cuffed Haggen behind the neck affectionately. "How about some coffee, Festus?"

He smiled at the old man. "I wouldn't say no..."

An impish grin curled the doctor's lips. "Of course you wouldn't...it's free!"

For the first time in days, raucous laghter filled the Longbranch, and the joy of the season filled their hearts. The snow continued to fall gently outside, but they didn't notice. It was Christmas, and they were together. All was once again right with the world.

The End.


End file.
